


The Book

by PuppetMaster55



Category: Danny Phantom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Gen, Phanniemay, Phanniemay 2015, Suicide Attempt, everything after Fright Before Christmas wasn't real
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-25
Updated: 2015-05-25
Packaged: 2018-04-01 04:40:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 41,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4006195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PuppetMaster55/pseuds/PuppetMaster55
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The story of Danny Fenton's life was going pretty great: he saved the world, got a girlfriend, and his parents are in the know. </p><p>Too bad it had to end.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Book

**Author's Note:**

> For the phanniemay prompt stories. The long of it is, back in August Currently-Lurking came up with the theory on tumblr that everything after Fright Before Christmas technically didn't happen. Why? Because Danny got turned into a book at the beginning of the episode, but never got turned back to normal. Naturally, I had to take the idea and turn it into a fic. I got about 5K into it befoe college happened, and when phanniemay rolled around again (with the prompt stories) coinciding with the end of my college education, I decided to celebrate by writing 35 thousand words of fic in just under three weeks. So, enjoy!

Danny walked through the hallway, his backpack slung over one shoulder. Around him, the rest of the school was silent; it was late in the afternoon, after all. Behind him, Ms. Carlyle followed, bag in hand. The two of them parted ways as Danny turned left, toward the front entrance, while Ms. Carlyle went right, heading toward the teacher's lounge.

Exiting the building, he found Sam waiting at the steps, a smile on the edge of her lips. “Hey, hero. How'd the test go?”

“I think I did good.” Their hands intertwined, and Danny transformed. The duo took to the skies, flying high above the traffic and people. “Just wish I could take the midterm with everyone else, and not have to worry about fans.”

“Yeah, because fans are the reason you've been in the press so often.” Sam rolled her eyes, then yelped as she was twirled into Danny's arms. “Would you stop doing tha–”

Danny silenced her with a kiss. When he pulled back, all he said was, “Well, they're part of the reason. I can't help it if I saved the world.”

“Are you still milking that? Still?” She gave him a sidelong look.

“Hey, you spurred me into action. I think that warrants some milking.”

Sam snorted. “Six months is too much. Besides, there's something I wanted to talk to you about.”

Danny frowned. He hadn't thought that she wanted to celebrate anything like a six-month anniversary. “Hey, you said no anniversary stuff. You can't just expect me to–”

“Not that.” She waved off the insinuation with a roll of the eyes. “It's something I've been meaning to say for a while now.”

“Oh.” Danny blinked, realization sinking in. “ _Oh._ Look, you don't have to say–”

His response stopped as the author so penned,

For this story has now reached The End.

~~* * *~~

Danny fell, collapsing against the concrete floor. He pushed up onto his hands and knees, trying to figure out what had happened, and where Sam was. “What...” Spotting GhostWriter in the corner, keyboard in hand, Danny leapt to his feet, ectoblasts blazing bright in his fists. “GhostWriter? What did you do? Where's Sam?”

“Boy, he didn't do nothing.” Danny whirled to see Walker sitting calmly at his desk. The ectoblasts faded from his hands as he took stock of the situation. A quick glance told him that he was in Walker's prison, and that GhostWriter had handcuffs on, Bullet looming over his shoulder. “Now, I'll let those ectoblasts of yours go just the once. Been told disorientation ain't nothing new to not being a book, if the Writer is to be believed.”

“Of course.” GhostWriter glared at Bullet as the keyboard was taken from him. “Granted, the previous ones never stayed a book for so long, but the effects are always the same. Disorientation and confusion. In time, the boy will be back to normal – minus that atrocious Christmas hate of his.”

“You're still hung up on that?” Danny shook his head. “Dude, that was two years ago.”

GhostWriter hummed. “Oh, interesting. I suspect the Observants will want to see you immediately.”

“What? Why?” Danny hated having to deal with those doorknobs. “I hate those doorknobs, and why are you talking like I'm not in the room? More importantly, _what is going on here_? What did you do with Sam?”

“We didn't do nothing to that human girl of yours, boy.” Walker stood up, moving over to Danny. “And what happened was I arrested the Writer for breaking the Solstice Truce.”

“...you mean the Christmas Truce?”

Walker waved his hand dismissively. “I mean the Solstice Truce. Twice a year the Zone respects the Solstice, Winter and Summer. No one attacks another. Anyone breaking that law answers to me. Four months ago, that law was broken.”

“He destroyed my precious book.” GhostWriter sniffed in disdain. “I had to teach him a lesson.”

“Four months ago?” Danny scoffed. “More like two years. What, you decide to bring GhostWriter out to finally get me to serve my sentence. What was it, ten thousand years?”

“Boy, the way you were, consider that sentence paid in full.” Walker jerked his head, and Bullet took GhostWriter from the room. He then took Danny by the shoulder, practically carrying the teen into the seat across from the desk.

Danny squirmed, trying to find some position that was comfortable, but the hard metal wouldn't budge. “What do you mean, the way I was?”

“Boy, you ain't been nothing but a book in the Writer's hands for the past four months.” Walker sat down. “Now, I'm sure you got questions, but I ain't the answering type. I sent for Plasmius to return you. He'll tell you everything.”

“Vlad?” Danny froze. “He's back? But–but what about space, and the Disasteroid!?”

“Boy.” Walker placed a fist on the desk, faintly glowing with an ectoblast. “You keep your mouth shut or I'll place you in the holding cells. A few decades might tighten that tongue of yours, you hear.”

Danny nodded, miming zipping his mouth shut. Walker shook his head, muttering about insolent phantoms, and got back to work, sifting through pages and pages of files. The silence dragged on in the office, with the occasional shuffle of papers, before... “So what was that about a Disasteroid?”

The teen flinched, nearly falling out of his chair as he realized that Walker had asked a question. “Do you... you seriously don't remember?”

“I ain't been a book like you were. Now I asked you a question, and you'd best answer.” The papers were set down, and Danny found himself the subject of Walker's interest.

“The Disasteroid. Giant space meteor, big enough to smash the Earth to bits. It's why it's called the Disasteroid. Vlad outed himself as a halfa and went up to make it intangible with my dad.” Danny paused, watching Walker's reaction for any kind of recognition.

“Ain't no such term as a halfa, but go on.” He waved the teen on, and the half-ghost continued.

“Well, Vlad couldn't make it intangible. It was made of ectoranium, which repels ghosts. So Vlad got left in space and I had the idea of making the entire Earth intangible, and–”

“Hold up.” Walker held up a hand, and Danny stopped. “Ectoranium? There ain't no such thing. Ain't nothing natural can stop a ghost, much less repel it.”

“Blood blossoms can repel ghosts just fine.” Danny snorted to himself. Walker stared at him, his gaze so bland it unnerved the teen.

“Ain't nothing natural can stop a ghost, boy.” Walker spoke slowly, carefully enunciating as he repeated his previous sentence. “ 'Sides, if that ectoranium can repel ghosts, how'd going intangible stop it?”

“It didn't. Don't you remember?” Danny was getting worked up, trying to get Walker to just _remember_ something, anything. “I lost my ghost powers, and rode the Specter Speeder all over the Ghost Zone. We needed every ghost to power the cables. If the Earth went intangible, the Disasteroid would pass through it harmlessly.”

“The same... Disasteroid... that repels ghosts, and ghost powers.” Walked sounded skeptical of everything. “Did that experience leave you with ink for brains?”

“Hey, it _worked_!” Danny protested. “I mean, yeah I got hit with all your guys' ectoblasts, and it kinda restored my ghost powers again, but my plan worked! We saved the Earth!”

Walker didn't respond, didn't react, didn't even say anything, but Danny got the impression that he should stop talking altogether. As soon as he did, however, there was a knock on the door. Walker bit back a curse as he called out for the person to enter. Danny watched in mild horror as Plasmius floated into the room, looking bored to be there. “I understand that Skulker is under my protection, but if you could _please_ stop sending for me every time you catch him. I was in the middle of a board meeting and I do not appreciate–”

“Plasmius?!” Danny interrupted Vlad's spiel, staring at the other half-ghost in shock. “What are you doing– you were left in _space_. _Dad_ left you in space. How?”

“Daniel.” It was a statement, Danny could tell; one spoken out of shock. “You're– how?”

“The runt ran afoul of the Writer during the Winter Solstice. Boy got turned into a book, and because of it the Writer got hard time. He wouldn't turn the boy back until now.” Walker gestured at Danny. “Called you here to pick the runt up. Now take him and leave. I ain't having no emotional reunions in my prison.”

“My god Daniel you– the Writer, I don't–” Vlad grabbed at Danny's shoulders, surprisingly gentle as he marveled at the teen's existence. “A book. This entire time you've been right here. Your mother will be so glad to have you back.”

Danny pulled out of Vlad's grip. “Listen, fruitloop, I don't know what game you're playing, or how you got here from space– it was the Infi-map, wasn't it? You stole the Infi-map again.”

“...the what?” Vlad's gaze went from Danny to Walker, who pointedly glared back.

“I say the runt's got ink for brains. Ask him about the Disasteriod. But outside my prison. You two only got the once to leave before I arrest you for trespassing.” Walker sat back, and Danny was reluctantly led by Vlad out of the prison.

He remained silent for the journey away from the prison, trying to figure out if what they were saying was really true or not. If they were right, that Christmas story GhostWriter had stuck him into had never ended, and he'd spent the past...

“How long did you say I was missing?”

“Four months. You went missing just before Christmas, on the Winter Solstice. It's mid-April right now.” Vlad was surprisingly quiet, and the two of them were floating along, moving toward a giant purple and green football – Vlad's portal. The old one.

Danny stopped, glancing between the portal and Vlad suspiciously. It wasn't in the same location as he remembered, nowhere near the far side of the Ghost Zone; Pariah's castle wasn't even anywhere in sight, but in the distance, he could spot the blue glow of the Fenton portal. “How... your old portal got shut down by the GIW. They destroyed your castle!”

Vlad had stopped as well, watching Danny with something close to pity in his eyes. “My boy, that never happened. I had the castle rebuilt, and had to rebuild my own portal from scratch too, curse your father.”

“Yeah, well, he left you in space, so the feeling's pretty mutual there.” Danny muttered under his breath, wondering why he couldn't fly over to his parents' portal and go back home.

“Because you've been missing for four months, dear boy. Do you think your parents will accept a ghost coming out of their portal claiming to be their son?” Vlad laid his hands against Danny's shoulders again.

“They did before!” Danny pulled away, defensive. “I don't know what trick you pulled, or what you did to Sam, or me, or– whatever. I can freeze your butt from here to the Far Frozen, Plasmius, and it wouldn't be the first time either.”

“This is no trick, Daniel. And I haven't touched that friend of yours – although she doesn't hold the same standards. She and that other friend of yours come barging into my house every other day. If we're particularly unlucky, they should be rooting through my lab right now. Would you like to take a look?” Vlad made a sweeping gesture, and Danny pulled further away. It had the smell of trap all over it.

“Oh, no. After you, I insist.” Danny mimicked Vlad's motion, waiting patiently while the older man shook his head.

“I'm not letting you out of my sight, boy. Not until you are safe in your mother's arms. Moreover, you've been without food or proper sleep for four months. Even for a Ghost, that is dangerous.” Vlad made to grab at Danny. “You need medical attention.”

“Yeah, well, Mom and Dad can give it to me, fruitloop. I don't need you stealing my mid-morph DNA for another one of your stupid clones.” Danny started flying towards his parents' portal, watching the little blue dot grow larger, only to have it blocked out as Plasmius appeared before him.

“Ignoring that clone comment, your parents can give you the proper medical attention, hmm? Would this be before the vivisection or after?” Vlad wrapped his arms around Danny, pinning the teen against his chest. “You go through there and you'll be lucky to escape with your afterlife intact. Oh, fudge buckets, Daniel, accept that I am not going to hurt you.”

The teen continued to struggle, digging deep in him for his ice powers. If he froze Plasmius, then he was free to–

Danny froze, eyes growing wide as he felt nothing within, no frozen core to pull upon, nothing. His voice was shaky as he looked up at Plasmius. “Wh–what did you do?”

“Nothing. Yet.” Vlad shrugged, and Danny was pressed tighter against the older man's chest by the movement. “But if you continue to struggle I will be forced to use more harsh methods of detainment. We wouldn't want that, now would we?”

“But.. my ice powers...” Danny didn't understand; there was _no possible way_ that Vlad could shut off his ice core – it was his very essence.

Vlad watched Danny with a skeptical eye. “Little badger, why don't you come with me. My personal medical team can help with all your needs, and once you're more stable, we can call your mother.”

“No. This is some trick. It has to be a trick, some plot of yours, some... _thing_ that you did.” Danny squirmed, trying to shimmy out of Vlad's grip. In response, the older man tightened it. “You shut me off from my ice core. That's... how did you do it? The Plasmius Maximus get an upgrade? What, now it can cut you off from your core?”

“Daniel. Daniel breathe.” Vlad loosened his arms, shifting so Danny's face was equal to his own. “Can you do that? Breathe?”

Breathe? It was quickly becoming hard to do so. They came in short and sharp, like something was pressing against his chest. Vlad's grip didn't help, his chest adding extra physical compression to Danny's own. Dark spots exploded across his vision, a bright flash showing through his eyelids as consciousness failed him.

~~***~~

He was in a bed, the blankets soft while the bed conformed almost perfectly to the arch of his back. A mask was strapped to his face, and he breathed in the crisp and cool taste of pure oxygen. Wires were attached to his chest, and at least one IV line was in his right arm.

Danny tried to move, to sit up, but his arms wouldn't respond, would only seem to sink deeper into the bed. He cracked open one eye, shutting it tight again when the light proved too much. He groaned, and a too-warm hand pressed against his forehead. Vlad's voice drifted from above. “Don't move, Daniel. You have severe dehydration and near-severe malnourishment. Surprisingly, your muscles haven't shown much in the way of atrophy.”

“Wha...” His voice came out a dry rasp, and the cough that followed felt like his stomach was stabbing spikes into his lungs. Vlad clucked his tongue.

“Do try not to speak, my boy. I understand exactly what you're going through: confusion and fear. You don't know what's happening – even though I just explained it to you – and every part of your body hurts.” Vlad chuckled to himself, a dry sound, far too fake to be real. Danny felt powerless, more than he'd ever been in almost two years. If only he had enough energy to– “Go ghost? Oh Daniel, it doesn't take a genius to figure out your thoughts. Not to worry, though; I have paid this hospital handsomely. This is a private room, with my own personal medical staff.”

“Why...?” Danny didn't understand. He was perfectly healthy, he didn't need any medical attention!

“Didn't you hear me just now, little badger?” Vlad's voice was condescending. “Although, I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. I did say you were feeling confused. Suffice to say, you are dangerously malnourished, and all of these wires and tubes leading into you is purely to help curb that. As for why I'm helping you. Well... that's a story for another day. Go back to sleep, Daniel.”

With nothing else left to do, he let consciousness drift away.

~~* * *~~

When next he woke, Danny found that he was able to open his eyes.

The world wasn't nearly as bright as before, and he was finally able to see the worried faces of his family as they rushed him. They let out exclamations of concern, spoke of fears of his fate, of promises to find the ghost that had held him hostage for all those months.

“Of course, we have to thank Vlad for this miracle.” Maddie gave a wary look at the doorway, and Danny followed her gaze to spot Vlad standing there, staring right back at her. “His private investigators found you, somehow.”

“I spared no expense, my dear. Anything for you.” Vlad leered at her, but remained on the far side of the room. “It's the investigator I hired we have to truly thank.”

“Ah, yes. Mr. ...Ulker, was it?” Jazz gave Vlad a blank look, and Danny furrowed his brows in confusion.

“Yes. S.K. Ulker is one of the best in the business. I have regular business with him.” Vlad glanced at the monitors around the bed. “Of course, I must insist that young Daniel be left to his rest. Oh, I know you want more time with him, but we must let him rest, and regain his energy. Medical health is not something to be taken lightly.”

Danny's parents protested as they were guided out of the room, while Jazz lingered behind. Licking his lips, Danny gave his sister a weak smile, which was returned as she left him alone with Vlad. “S. K. Ulker?”

“Oh, like your mother would stop at hearing 'your son was found in the Ghost Zone, stuck inside a book'.” Vlad waved away the subject, stepping further into the room. “The mysteriously generous Mr. Ulker rescued you from rival ghost hunters who wanted to stop your parents from continuing their research. Fortunately, it didn't take much to falsify the data about these rival ghost hunters, but your sister is another matter. I didn't think she hated me quite that much.”

“You filled her up with nanobots and shoved her into the Ecto-Suit?” Danny gave Vlad the best glare he could, short of actually shooting ectobeams out at the older man. “Threatened to blow her up if she didn't waste me into toast?”

“One time, my boy.” Vlad ignored the glare, setting down on the edge of the bed. “And she nearly toasted me.”

“What do you want, fruitloop?” Danny stared at the spot of bed Vlad was sitting on in disgust. “It can't be killing my dad, because that won't get you my mom. And if you think you can keep me here, I will freeze you into a statue again.”

Vlad scoffed. “Freeze me? How?”

“With my ice core, how do you think?”

Vlad lazily blinked, giving Danny a cynical side-eye as he sighed. “I see. Is it that hard to believe that I am capable of altruistic acts?”

“My dad? Valerie? Dani?” Danny glared at the IV lead on his arm. He reached up, picking at the tape holding it in place. “What, did you steal my midmorph DNA when we crossed through the portal? Perfect that 'clone son' of yours?”

“Clones?” Vlad reached out, gently taking Danny's hand in his own and lifting it away from the IV. “Daniel, I assure you, there is no technology capable of cloning anyone. And listing yourself in the third person? Really?”

“Dani. With an 'i'. Short for Danielle. The only successful clone you ever made of me, fruitloop.” Jerking his arm free, he gave Vlad a dark glare before a thought crossed his mind. None of this had to be real, it was all too _wrong_ to be real. It was like a... dream...

Nocturne.

“And just why would I clone you, Daniel?” Vlad snorted. “Even if the technology existed it would be an imprudent idea, let alone impractical. Discounting finding a surrogate, having a baby human on hand would be–”

“Shut up.” Danny shifted, swinging his legs over the side of the bed, the IV and heart monitor wires dragging along his chest and arms. “You're not real. This is just another one of Nocturne's dreams.”

“This _is_ reality, Daniel.” Vlad shook his head. “And if you insist on being so unruly a patient, then you leave me no choice.” He reached toward the bureau by the window, opening it a pulling out–

“NO!” Danny fall from the bed, the heart monitor starting to let out fast-paced beeping even as it knocked down onto the bed. Vlad slid his hands into the Ghost Gauntlets, a sad almost-smile on his face. The needle-pointed tips sprang out as he flexed the fingers.

“Now, now. No undue movement, Daniel. We wouldn't want this to hurt any more than it already will.” Vlad took a step closer toward Danny, who ripped the IV and wires strapped to his body. The teen backed away, scrabbling on his elbows as he tried to get away.

This wasn't happening. This _wasn't happening_. Vlad wasn't going to just _rip out_ his ghost half – the man was too obsessed with making Danny his apprentice to do that! It had to be a dream, right?

Vlad stepped over Danny, the claws glinting in the light, and reached down. Danny went intangible, slipping through the floor and into the room below. He had to get away from Vlad – the older half-ghost had gone mad.

He dropped out of the ceiling, landing in the tattered remains of his living room. Smoke billowed out of the kitchen, hanging heavy in the air and making it difficult to breathe. Danny coughed, dropping to his knees and blinking back tears. He heard someone step up behind him, and saw a huge shadow engulf his own. He sighed in relief; his dad was there.

Dad leaned in close, gloved hands taking gentle hold of Danny's shoulders, helping him to stand. He leaned back, letting Dad become the solid object holding himself up. Reaching up, he placed a hand on Dad's clawed gloves to reassure himse–

_Wait..._

Dad didn't have gloves with claws poking through the tips.

“Hello, me.” Dan's voice hissed into his ear. The claws dug into Danny's chest. He couldn't breathe. Where was his family? The house was on fire, didn't they run through fire drills every holi– Dan tightened his claws further, hands sliding to wrap around Danny's throat. He couldn't breathe. He _couldn't breathe_. “Don't I ever listen? I am _inevitable_.”

The fingers tightened. Claws dug into the skin of his throat.

_I can't breathe..._

It felt like something was in his chest, long and hard and in his chest his throat his _mouth_ –

Danny gagged, coughed, tried to get it out. His eyes watered and snapped open– _when did he close them?_ – to see Vlad leaning over him. He panicked, trying to shove Vlad off of him away from him _anything_ to put distance between the two.

He was in a hospital bed, an actual hospital bed, and try as he might, Danny couldn't get Vlad to keep away. Vlad peeled at tape, told Danny to cough, and pulled on whatever was between his lips and against his tongue and _down his throat_. Vlad pulled, and it slipped out of his chest, dragging against his throat and made him cough, made him gag. The older man set the tube to the side, stepping back for the nurses that ran into the room. “He was fighting the intubation, I had to do something.”

“You did fine.” The head nurse – a heavy-set woman with dark skin and curly red hair – told Vlad, pulling out a pen light and shining it in Danny's eyes. “But that's still something that you should leave to the practicing medical professionals, _Mister_ Masters.”

“Yes, yes.” Vlad waved away at the critique. “Shall I get him some crushed ice, then? His throat must be terribly dry.”

“You can cut the sass, Mister Masters.” The head nurse put the penlight away. “And yes. Crushed ice is always best. Danny? Can you hear me?”

Danny tried to say that he could, but ended up coughing, almost heaving. The head nurse helped him shift into a sitting position, and he nodded his answer where words failed. Vlad returned to the room, and the head nurse let Danny settle back into the bed, facing the older man. “Now that he's stable and awake, we're obligated to contact his family. We were supposed to call them earlier, Mister Masters, but apparently the doctor in charge of your case decided to postpone it.”

“And you will continue to do so, for the time being.” Vlad gave the head nurse a heavy stare. “Daniel has come out of a traumatic event. He's been missing for four months. Yes, his family is dearly worried, but it is imperative that the boy be allowed to rest. He wouldn't want to worry his family too badly in his current state. Isn't that right, Daniel?”

The dark-haired teen glared at Vlad, insulted that his family hadn't been contacted. And missing? For four months? It was all the fruitloop's doing! Which...

Danny side-eyed the head nurse. She had called Vlad by name, so she knew who he was. But how could she not know _what_ he was – the man had outed himself to the entire world, after all!

The head nurse looked from Vlad's calm facade to Danny's glare, before letting out a heavy sigh. “Twenty-four hours. Then we call his parents, and CPS, and get the cops in here. Illinois needs to know to call off the amber alert.”

Danny blinked as she left him alone with Vlad, who turned back to the teen with the paper cup of ice chips. “What _am_ I to do with you, little badger? Oh, don't give me that look,” Vlad added, when Danny returned to glaring at the man. “You brought this on yourself by insulting the Writer during Solstice. Now here we are, having to craft some story about how you managed to survive this long on your own. How about, the stress of high school and the holidays got to you, and you ran away to stay with your dear Uncle Vlad. But something happened and you found yourself lost in the woods – understandable, really, there aren't many that know how to find my castle. So you had to make do, lost in the woods for all those months. Eventually you managed to make it to the forest around my castle, but the toll of all that travel was too much and you collapsed. It was sheer luck that I manged to find you and get you to the hospital in time.” Vlad paused, holding the cup of ice chips for Danny to take. “As cover stories go, it's certainly far from the worst, but it will hold under scrutiny. Your family will be put under review at CPS, of course, but nothing will come of it. Unfortunately. You see, I cannot implicate your father as negligent without implicating your dear mother as well. And we can't have that.”

Danny snatched the paper cup out of Vlad's hand, letting a few of the ice chips into his mouth to melt. He didn't swallow, though – his throat felt far too dry and far too sore to do that just yet. But the ice chips cooled and moistened his mouth enough for him to speak. “Intubation?”

Vlad nodded, a sour look on his face. “Yes. You woke earlier. They had to intubate you when you fell back asleep, and stopped breathing. That was much closer to putting the other foot in the grave than either of us would like, Daniel.”

He gave Vlad a dirty look. His voice was tough and every syllable felt like sandpaper in his throat. He would have to choose his words carefully, for the time being. “Bite me.”

“A tempting offer, really,” Vlad said, his words dripping with sarcasm. “But I must decline. Who knows where you've been – I wouldn't want to catch something.”

Danny gave Vlad a disgusted look. “Call family.”

“No.” At Danny's glare the silver-haired man shrugged. “Do you really wish them to see you like this, before there's time to clean you up so that bumbling oaf you call a father doesn't crush you in a hug? Moreover, you still haven't learned your cover story.”

“Don't need one.” Danny took another smattering of ice chips into his mouth, licked his lips, and gave Vlad a dark smile. “They know.”

Vlad shook his head. “They don't. Well, your father doesn't. Your mother doesn't appear to _want_ to make that connection. And your sister... well. Jasmine is too smart for her own good.” He leaned forward. “Now tell me, where were you for the past four months? The world is just _dying_ to know.”

Danny frowned, took another sip of ice chips. “Disasteroid. You being a fruitloop. I won, saved the earth. You lost, got left alone in space. Simple.”

“ _Not_ simple, Daniel.” Vlad hissed through gritted teeth. “Far from it. We can go with you getting lost in the woods or I tell your parents that you were a naive idiot who got held captive by some ghost. And let me tell you, _boy_ , the rest of the world doesn't believe ghosts are real. They'll declare you mentally incompetent – that means insane – and lock you up. You say you're dead? Cotard's Syndrome, they'll say, and force feed you drugs when you refuse to take them willingly. And then the government will appear, and the nice men in white suits are there to go over your file and transfer you to a nice mental care facility downstate. But wait, what about your ghost powers?” Vlad tapped a finger against his chin, mock thinking. “Oh, you won't have to worry about those. The Guys in White are up to date on all the anti-ghost containment. They might force you into reverting to your 'true' form, then call in the most accomplished in their fields – which, in this decade, is your mother – to come in and dissect you.

“So tell me, _Daniel_ ,” Vlad hissed Danny's name like it was an insult. “Where in this plan of yours is this so-called simple?”

“ _They know._ ” And they did, he was sure of it. They knew and they still loved him. Danny didn't know what Vlad was planning, or how he'd managed to come back from space, rebuild his Wisconsin portal, and get at least that nurse to play along, but the teen was prepared to fight his way out of the hospital. And once he was out, he was gonna find his family, and press charges against Vlad. Kidnapping, to start. Possibly forced drug use, from how tired he felt and whatever the IV was feeding into him–

“They _don't_ know!” Vlad snarled, planting his hands on the edge of the bed. His face went neutral, he took a deep breath, and flexed his fingers. “Daniel, please understand. You have been missing for four months. Your family does not know, and I have spent these four months searching every inch of the Ghost Zone for you. I have done so much to find you and bring you back to your family safe and with your other half a secret. _Do not_ ruin all the work I have done for your sake, _child_!”

“Because everything is always about you, isn't it?” The cup of ice chips felt chill in Danny's hand, and his fingertips started to go numb. He tried to summon his ice core to counteract the cold, but there was still nothing to draw upon. He spared a glance at the IV, wondered if maybe Vlad had found some way to inject him with an ecto-suppressant or something. “Why should I believe you, Plasmius? Does this remind you of Vortex? What, are you gonna try to control me into doing what you want, until I decide not to follow your every little move? Haven't we _done_ this already?”

“You want a good reason?” Vlad scoffed, pulling the chair over so he could sit in it. It squeaked as his weight sank down, and he pulled out his cell phone. “Fine then. I'll just call Child Protective Services. I can arrange to make your parents out as unfit guardians, and my lawyers can draw up a _very_ convincing statement as to my ability as a fit and fair guardian to watch over you. Your sister, however, might not fair so well. She is sixteen – well, seventeen now; her birthday was in late February, I believe. She will fight, at first, but the courts are likely to grant her emancipation. Is this what you really want, Daniel: a long and lengthy court battle that your parents _will_ lose; loss of their children – one of whom has been missing for several months; and loss of their accreditation as ghost hunters. They'll lose funding, the portal will shut down, possibly repossessed by the Guys in White.

“Put simply, Daniel – you remain quiet and repeat my tale, and your family will remain together. You don't listen to me, I make one simple call.” He flipped open the cell, thumb poised to dial. Cool blue eyes met a harsh blue glare. “Which will it be?”

~~* * *~~

Two days later, his family arrived, teary-eyed. They laughed too hard and smiled too hard, and Danny mustered through the hugs as if it really _had_ been four months since he'd last seen them. When they hugged him, it was with a tight squeeze that lasted too long; he had to squeeze back too, had to clutch and cling and bury his face and breath in the scent of each of them like he'd been afraid that he'd never get to see his family again. It was almost truth, as he'd worried that Vlad would keep him in that hospital bed, would keep the medical staff from calling his family. The tears in his eyes and relief in his voice when they first came into view had felt real, though – far too real and far too unsettling. It felt like a part of him really, truly believed that it had been far too long since he'd seen his parents. He was dizzy and breathless and half a second away from tears when his mother wrapped her arms around him.

Through the tears, he gave the story Vlad had come up with. The holiday fighting had been more than stressful, adding onto Danny's failing grades and the fears of increasing ghost attacks, and he'd run off. He'd snuck into the first bus out of town and gone as far as his pocket money could take him. When he ran out of money he tried to sneak onto a pick-up truck, but was caught and left on the side of the road and forced to hitch-hike. But nobody picks up hitch-hikers nowadays, so he had to literally hike north, going by the stars by night and the location of the sun by day (through the tears, Mom had commended how much better his survival skills had gotten). He had had to sneak food when he could, and sneak a ride in pick-ups whenever possible, but it was the woods of Wisconsin, and in the winter, that had tripped him up. He had gotten lost in the woods, had lost sight of the road, and kept traveling north. Anything to make it to Vlad's – or to help. In the winter, day and night blurred together, and food got scarcer and scarcer, and by the end he couldn't really remember much.

Vlad took up the tale from that point, talking about how he'd just returned from a series of business trips and charity functions. He was tired and exhausted but had wanted to take a walk around the castle, see the beauty of the place in winter. When he neared the woods at the eastern edge of his property, he'd spotted something in amongst the trees – something far too red to be considered an animal. Dad had gone ashen, and Mom remained silent as Vlad spoke of how he found Danny, half-dead, in the forest. How he carried Danny into the castle, kept him warm as Vlad called for an ambulance, stayed by Danny's side as much as possible. He also mentioned how he considered calling Maddie and Jack, but decided to wait until Danny was healthier, and in a stable condition.

Vlad got gratitude as well, hugs from Dad that were reluctantly accepted and hugs from Mom that Vlad returned and lasted far too long. Jazz didn't hug Vlad, though, instead staying in the opposite end of the room, to the left of the bed Danny was still left in. She took Danny's hand in her own, and squeezed, and stayed when Vlad pointed out that, although he and Danny had given their statements to the police and CPS, it would immensely help if Maddie and Jack reassured the authorities that Danny was going to return home safe and sound. He gave the siblings a very pointed look from over Dad's shoulder as he guided the parents from the room.

Danny let out a shaky breath, readying himself for what could be a hard conversation. He trusted Jazz to ground him almost as much as he trusted Sam. “Do you remember the summer–” Danny stopped, because he'd wiped everyone's memories of that time. What would she remember? Vlad and Walker didn't remember the Disasteroid, so maybe... “Do you remember Nocturne?”

Jazz blinked, frowned. “Nnno? What's Nocturne?”

“He's a ghost. Trapped the town in each of our perfect dream worlds? You fought the dream demons with Tucker to give me and Sam time to beat him? Don't you remember?” Danny tried to stay calm, even as his breathing quickened and his heart began to pound against his chest. Jazz shook her head, looking more and more concerned by the second. He tried another approach. “What about the Disasteroid? You _have_ to remember that! Nearly destroyed the Earth, but I rounded up all the ghosts in the Ghost Zone and we made the planet intangible with Tucker's help. You had to tell Mom and Dad because you thought I'd died. I mean, died again, because I'd gone into the portal and zapped myself back human. Don't you... don't you remember that?”

Jazz looked like she didn't believe Danny. Like she was about to find the doctor and request a psychiatrist. Danny sighed, gave her a sad smile, and gave her hand a squeeze. From her reactions, it was likely that whatever Vlad had done had affected his family too. He'd have to play along. Jazz couldn't know the truth, not with the older half-ghost so close – and himself trapped in a hospital bed. “Sorry. Things got pretty, uh, strange near the end. Vlad... he, uh, talked to me about it. There's a lot of things I think happened, because the starvation and dehydration made me pretty out of it. And that last stretch of forest was... it was pretty Dame and the Demon, there. Or like that, uh, one TV show, remember? Where the guy starts off in a normal life and then suddenly finds himself in the past? He spends the entire time trying to get back to his old life?”

“Oh! I know that one! The title's one of those songs Mom and Dad like.” Jazz frowned. “I can't remember the name. We only watched it the once, though.”

Danny shrugged, offering a half-smile in response. He couldn't exactly talk about that time he and Tucker had both been laid up with the flu and spent the entire time watching it over and over. That had been after the beauty pageant, which was after the Christmas Truce. If Jazz really had been affected by this... _whatever_ that Vlad did, then she wouldn't remember.

He wondered who Vlad had roped into working with him. A wish made by Desiree? Maybe it was paranoia on his end, fostered by Spectra? Or maybe it was Nocturne, who regained enough power to trap Danny in a dream world as revenge? Clockwork seemed farfetched, but Danny hadn't considered the time ghost an ally in the past, so it wasn't out of the question – Clockwork never interfered unless the Observants ordered it happen. So maybe it was a different timeline?

There were too many possibilities, too many things to consider. For now, he would have to wait. He could check things out when he got back home. Sam always kept a Specter Deflector on-hand, and if anyone would be able to help him figure this out, it was her.

~~* * *~~

Danny eyed the container of green gelatin like it was one of his parents new weapons. His stomach grumbled in protest, wanting nothing less than a mountain of food after it had realized, some time ago, that he hadn't had anything to eat in what felt like months. And it wasn't like he didn't agree with his stomach, either, it was just... he couldn't trust that it was real food. He stomach let out another keeling groan.

“ _Eat_ , Daniel.” Vlad picked up the plastic spoon, tearing open the container and stabbing the utensil into the green gelatin. The spoon wobbled in place, but the gelatin remained still. Vlad practically shoved the container into Danny's hands. “You need to eat. I can hear the dulcet tones of your stomach from down the hall.”

“Don't you have a world to take over, or something?” Danny's family had had to leave for the night, but Vlad had stayed with a pointed look at the doctor with a mention of making a very generous donation to the pediatrics ward.

Vlad let out a dry laugh, like Danny had said something that he found funny. “World domination? Is that really what you think of me, Daniel? That's far too cliché for my tastes. I much prefer the simple things.”

“Oh, is _that_ why you're a billionaire?” Danny retorted, looking like he'd rather be anywhere else in the world than participate in a conversation with Vlad. “And here I thought it was just megalomania.”

“Such a big word. Your English teacher must be so proud.”

“I'm failing _math_ , fruitloop, not English.” Danny set the gelatin on the table.

“And that precludes your terrible grades in everything, does it?” Vlad shrugged. “As it stands, you need extensive tutoring to not be held back a year. I can imagine all too well what it's like to watch your friends move on without you, Daniel, and I'd rather it not happen to you as well.”

“Why Unkie Vlad, helping little old me out of the goodness of your heart!” Danny placed a hand over his heart. “You're too kind, _Unkie Vlad_.”

“Patronization doesn't suit you, little badger.” Vlad picked up the gelatin, holding it out toward the bed-bound teen. “ _Eat_.”

“And why should I?” Danny crossed his arms and set his shoulders and face into stubborn refusal, the effect ruined by the echoing groaning of his stomach. Vlad met Danny's stare with a deadpan look. Danny humphed, took the gelatin, and put a spoonful into his mouth with a batting of the eyes at Vlad that meant 'happy new, fruitloop?'

“On this matter, yes. Although I would be happier if you ate that entire container.” Vlad kept his arms leaning on the edge of the bed. “And I _am_ concerned with your education. Standardized tests are terrible measures of learning, and laughably predictable. I am willing to tutor you in what subjects I can, or at the least provide you with tutors who are understanding of your desire to graduate with your friends. One of them tutored me, back when I myself was hospitalized.”

Danny opened his mouth to retort about dinosaurs and stone tablets when he remembered that Vlad was as old as his parents. The hospitalization Vlad mentioned, Danny realized, must have been after his own accident with the proto-portal. Except... Vlad didn't have anyone there for him.

He scowled. “So, what, your plan is to put me through the same circumstances you went through? Make me into a little you that you can order around like some minion?”

“Were that the case, I assure you that this would not be the means I would go about that plan.” Vlad's gaze shifted from Danny to the gelatin and back, raising his eyebrows in an expectant expression. Danny took another spoonful and made a point of chewing on it. So sympathy through similar experiences was out, assuming Vlad was telling the truth. Which... why wouldn't he tell the truth? It was just the two of them, and the older man had never made it a point to deceive Danny when it was just the two of them. “However, I implore that you reign in tongue and temper. This situation was not of my creation. The Writer knew the wrong he did turning you into a book–”

“Really? You're still going on about that?” Danny scoffed. “But do go on, _Unkie Vlad_ , this is all so very interesting to my teenage sensibilities. Who did you make a deal with? Did you go to Desiree and wish everyone forgot after that Christmas?” The corners of his lips curled into a frown. “How _did_ you get back here, anyway? Didn't the Disasteroid hit you on the way past the planet?”

“Daniel.” Vlad gave him an imploring look, reaching one hand out to touch Danny on the leg. The teen eyed the hand with disgust, and wondered if the plastic spoon would break if he tried to stab Vlad with it. “We've talked about this. Everything that you've experienced since Christmas wasn't real. You were trapped as–”

“A book, yeah, I _know_.” He wished Vlad would stop trying to feed that lie to him. The sooner this hospital stay ended, the better. He could go back to Sam, and with her help undo whatever the fruitloop had done. He smirked at the thought of leaving Vlad out in space again. “Not that I believe you.”

“Whether or not you believe it now, it is the truth.” With a parting pat, Vlad pulled his hand away, interlocking the fingers of both hands. He sighed, a smile on the edges of his lips. “You want to believe that two years have passed and you're still prepubescent? I know there are late-bloomers, but even _they_ have something to show for it.”

“Hey!” Danny's face grew red-hot, although he couldn't tell if it was anger or embarrassment. “I have _chest hair_ , which is more than can be said of you!”

Vlad didn't look convinced, and Danny slammed the gelatin container on the table. He lifted the blanket, pulling back on the hospital gown. The embarrassment was gone, anger in its place. He was going to show Vlad just who was a late-bloo–

The anger vanished, embarrassment taking its place as he saw bare skin where there should have been hair. The embarrassment turned to shock as he realized that Vlad must have known that this would happen, then he circled back to anger as he came to the conclusion that Vlad had _shaved his body_. “You–”

Vlad clamped a hand over Danny's mouth, looking straight at the teen's nose. “If you're even suggesting that I caused this, reconsider. I hardly want to see your father out of his pants, and you even less than that. Although if it was your mother...”

Danny considered licking Vlad's hand, but decided against it. He didn't know where the man's hand had been, and wasn't willing to risk catching something. Biting him was also out of the question, so Danny conceded to using his own hands to remove Vlad's. “Okay, first of all: ew. Secondly, if you're lying about having something to do with... _this_ ,” he gestured at his covered body, “I will get you back for it.”

“Do I honestly look like someone who would stoop to such pettiness?” Vlad held up his other hand when Danny opened his mouth, pulling his right hand out of the teen's grip. “Don't answer that. Your view of me is biased by whatever version of me existed in that story.”

“Denial isn't just a river in Egypt.” If Vlad wanted to believe the last two years hadn't happened, then fine, but Danny wasn't going to play that game.

“Such a sharp wit, how _ever_ have I managed to outsmart it.” Vlad's tone was condescending, and Danny felt the urge to hit the man in the face with an ectoblast.

“Considering you're 0 for 3 on the whole kill Dad, marry Mom, make me your apprentice thing?” Danny ticked them off on his fingers, a smirk on his face. “I'd say that's a pretty good question.”

Vlad scowled, batting at Danny's hands. The teen laughed, and Vlad's scowl deepened. “Eat your gelatin.”

~~* * *~~

Checking out of the hospital had been far too long coming. Danny's legs itched with the need to walk, but he accepted the orderly wheeling him out the front door with a sharp look from his mother. Vlad told his parents that he was footing all the medical bills, as it was the least he could do for them, and gave them a card to show Danny's pediatrician when he went in for a follow-up at Amity Park General. Danny thanked “Unkie Vlad” the same as the rest of his family, and soon enough they were all in the RV and on the road home.

Danny braced himself for the drive – it would be almost two entire days before they reached Amity Park. Two days in the RV with nothing but his family to entertain each other. And there he was, with – apparently – no idea what went on during the last four months back at Amity Park.

“So...” Danny began, unsure where to start. He didn't know what, exactly, out of their memories was missing. He fidgeted with the seatbelt, wondered if the RV was always that much bigger than him. Beside him, Jazz had her nose buried in a book. “How has the ghost hunting been? Any recent Inviso-Bill sightings?”

Mom glanced back from the driver's seat. “That ghost hasn't been spotted since early December. It makes me wonder if maybe we misclassified it as a Class-B specter. It could be a poltergeist.”

Danny's eyebrows furrowed. “What's the difference?”

“A specter is more powerful than a simple haunting, much like... Inviso-Bill was thought to be.” From the tone of her voice, she didn't sound pleased at the name – and given how she didn't correct him, he seriously wondered if anybody had actually heard him yell out the name Danny Phantom back during the whole crisis with Pariah Dark. “They also aren't as confined to a single location, and can form territories. We assumed that Inviso-Bill was a specter that considered the city its territory, which explained why it fought off all the other ghosts; it was claiming its territory.”

“That's right!” Dad chimed in, leaning over the side of the passenger-side seat. “But then the weirdest part of it all was that it vanished! After all that time making all sorts of trouble claiming the town as its territory it poofed away like a phantom! So your mom and I went back through our records and reexamined our data...”

“We concluded that Inviso-Bill wasn't a specter at all.” Mom finished, the RV lurching as it wound around a curve. Jazz turned a page in her book.

“That... still doesn't answer my question.”

“We compared our data with Lesh and Barrons' findings from '82. We even called up Barrons for confirmation – the Freeling case study changed the face of ectology – and she corroborated our claim.” Dad readjusted his position. “See, back in '82, no one believed that Lesh and Barrons had encountered a Class-A poltergeist – most poltergeists are usually Class-D, or in rare cases, Class-C. But see, those Class-C poltergeists could barely be classified as such. And no one could corroborate the Freeling case, because it had all the makings of a Class-A haunting. It wasn't until '86, when Barrons published her follow-up – which came out a couple months after our proto-portal, didn't it, Maddie?”

“It was two months after the accident, actually.” Mom nodded. “That was the year I finally got my doctorate. The student court disbarred you from getting your doctorate, remember?”

Dad winced. “That reminds me – we never did apologize to Vladdie for that. Gotta make sure to do that the next time he visits.”

“Wait, you never apologized to Vlad?” That made... far too much sense. Vlad's entire grudge was built on the ruination of his life, and how Dad hadn't apologized. But Vlad was a billionaire – if through dubiously legal means – so if anything Vlad's life was actually better off than it was before. And he doubted that Vlad was going to accept a simple apology and move on with his life. The fruitloop was too obsessed with killing Dad to marry Mom. Danny shook his head, clearing away the confusing thoughts. “Look, can we get back to answering my question.”

“Sure, Dann-o!” Dad gave him a thumbs up and a smile. “Barrons' '86 follow-up confirmed that she was working on a case study, as well as worked as indisputable confirmation that she was dealing with a Class-A poltergeist. She published another paper in '88, and since then has remained the foremost expert on poltergeists in the spectral community.

“So, we talked to her, explained everything about Inviso-Bill – she's doesn't like the name either – and she agreed that it's a poltergeist, not a specter.” Dad's grin got bigger. “See, up until Fernham's work in '93, specters and poltergeists were considered nearly interchangeable terms. But Fernham, he says that specters are a lot like poltergeists with the exception that they haunt _areas_ , while poltergeists haunt _people_.”

“Dear, you're thinking of Szyrkas' work in Chernobyl in '98. Fernham was all theoretical data. He theorized that specters were just exceptionally strong hauntings, but we disproved him last year.”

“The classless specter, right, right!” Dad nodded, giving a knowing grin to Danny. “We cited his theories and disproved them all.” He chuckled. “Didn't he send us a letter declaring that we were mortal enemies?”

“Our first mortal enemy.” The fond smile could be heard in Mom's voice. “He sent us a Christmas card, remember?”

“Yeah...”

The RV lapsed into a stifling silence. Danny squirmed in his seat, and moved to look out the window. Raindrops exploded on the windows, and thunder rumbled through the sky. Lightning flashed in the distance.

He couldn't wait until they got back home. Then he could undo whatever Vlad had done and go back to normal.

~~* * *~~

The rain came down hard on the roof of the RV, and Danny didn't know how his family could sleep through it. Lightning cracked across the sky, turning the night sky into flashes of day, and with it came the rolling booms of thunder.

He cracked a peek at his parents, and heard as much as saw his dad snoring through the storm. His parents were laying on a fold-out mattress on the floor, while he got the couch and Jazz was dozing away on the drop-down bunk above him. With his parents asleep, he could have the conversation with Jazz he had had to put off back at the hospital.

Sitting up, Danny shifted onto his hands and knees, and phased his head up through the upper bunk, popping through Jazz's chest. She shifted at the feeling of Danny phasing through her, groaning. “Hey, Jazz.”

She opened her eyes, spotted Danny's seemingly-disembodied head, and flailed. Danny snorted back laughter, dropping back into his own bunk. Jazz peered over the side, glaring down at the sniggering teen. She hissed at him. “Danny!”

“Jazz!” He hissed back. “I needed to talk with you. Thanks for not screaming.”

“Thanks for scaring five years off my life!” She shot back. “What did you want to talk about? And why couldn't it wait until morning?”

Danny swung his legs over the side of the makeshift bunk. He carefully avoided stepping on his parents, beckoning Jazz to follow to the front of the RV. He crawled into the driver's seat, Jazz following behind him and into the passenger-side seat.

“So.” Danny figured it was best to start at the beginning. Jazz wasn't much of a ghost hunter, but she could keep a secret. “The story about me running away is a lie. I never ran away. Vlad did something, I don't know what. I'm younger and you guys don't remember the last two years–”

“Wait.” Jazz reached out. “What do you mean, you never ran away? And, what, you think you're twelve?”

“I _know_ I'm sixteen, but apparently Vlad did something to de-age me and mess with everyone's memories. He tried to tell me that the past two years haven't happened and that apparently when GhostWriter turned my life into a story he actually turned me into a book. Supposedly that's where I've been the past four months, stuck as a book. But I don't believe that. I still don't get how he got back from space, much less how he got Walker and GhostWriter to play along–”

“Danny, just stop.” Jazz shook him. “Are you telling me you spent the past four months in the _Ghost Zone_?!”

“You aren't listening to me!” He had to work to keep his voice low. “Vlad's back from space and he did something! Joined up with a buncha ghosts who have it in for me, so now I'm in the body of myself when I was fourteen. You don't remember because of whatever Vlad did, so I need your help getting you to remember. _Please_ , Jazz!”

Jazz pursed her lips. Outside, lightning flashed and thunder boomed across the sky. She didn't look convinced, but she nodded. “Okay. Tell me everything.”

He told her about everything – from the Christmas that GhostWriter meddled with to Freakshow and the Reality Gauntlet; the time Vlad's ecto-acne returned and he infected Tucker and Sam with it; Vlad's term as Amity Park mayor; Vortex, and Nocturne; dating Valerie, and her return to ghost hunting with the new suit; he even talked about Dani, Vlad's clones of him, and the ecto-dejecto. He finished with the Disasteroid, of getting rid of his powers and Vlad's reveal, of their plan and the return of his powers. Of how Jazz told their parents, and the statues of himself in the capitals all over the world, and how he finally got together with Sam.

Jazz listened, remaining silent through it all. When Danny finished, all that could be heard were the downpour of rain and their dad's snoring. Jazz had pulled her hand away from Danny, pressing her fingers together and drumming them against each other. “It's not that I don't _want_ to believe you, because I do, it's just... it all sounds so hard to believe. Like, the Disasteriod was large enough to destroy the Earth, and you just made the planet intangible? Wouldn't it have hit the moon? And how many birds died because they weren't on the earth and got hit by it? For that matter, what about the weather; did it mess up the weather patterns and cause storms or... wouldn't it have hit the clouds and taken them with it? Or animals – it's _not possible_ to make the entire Earth stay on the ground for, what, several hours?”

“It barely lasted a minute.” Danny's frown grew as Jazz talked it through. Now that she mentioned it, there _were_ a lot of inconsistencies...

“But that doesn't make sense!” Jazz ran a hand over her face. “I mean, you said it was like half the size of the Earth, right?” At his nod she continued. “Then, shouldn't it have been in orbit around the Sun? Earth isn't the smallest planet out there.”

“Look, I know it doesn't really make sense–”

“It _doesn't_.”

“But you have to admit that Vlad is up to something. His story has a lot of holes in it; GhostWriter didn't turn me into a book, he only turned my Christmas into a life lesson. He said it himself – either he pens the end to this story, which he couldn't, or I learn my lesson. And I did. I learned not to be such a grinch during Christmas, the rhyming stopped, and we went on with our lives.”

“Were those his exact words?” Jazz shifted to face Danny. “Someone with the name GhostWriter doesn't sound like a ghost whose careless with the meaning of their words.”

Danny thought back to GhostWriter's words. The rhyme came to his mind easily. “First there was... you're stuck in this poem 'til your lesson is learned. Later he said.... there are two ways to end this poem, just two. I tap out the end – but I can't, thanks to you! So now you'll guide the story of the ghost who hates Christmas.”

Jazz hummed. “He said it only ends the poem though. Nothing about the story itself. What about the other way?”

“The story's not done 'til the lesson is learned.” Danny frowned. “Which, lesson learned, story's over, let's get on with our lives.”

“But he said the _poem_ won't end until the lesson is learned.” Jazz pointed out. “Why would he switch wording from poem to story.”

Danny shrugged. “Who knows – he was being arrested for breaking the Christmas Truce. That was the last thing he said to me.”

“So he wasn't narrating the story anymore.” Jazz reasoned, frowning in thought. “Which means that earlier line was still true – you were stuck in the poem until the lesson was learned.”

“But he was rhyming, in time to the rest of the poem.”

“Probably because he couldn't add or say anything to you that wasn't in rhyme. He didn't say anything about the story ending when the lesson was learned until later.” She groaned. “I'm good, but analyzing poetry isn't something I've ever liked.”

Danny snorted. “That's for sure. Lancer would be real helpful right about now; he's a big nut for that poetry stuff.”

“Don't remind me.” Jazz shuddered. “I still remember that week spent going over William Blake.”

“Then you agree the story ended when the poem did?” Danny replied with a smile. “And Vlad really _did_ figure out how to come back from space and mess with everyone's memory?”

“I... don't think the poem marked the end of the story.” Jazz remarked. “Because I remember Christmas, and there weren't any ghost reindeer or evil trees or anything resembling a ruined Christmas. Or a _more_ ruined Christmas – your disappearance kinda ruined the holiday for us, Danny.”

“No, but, that's what Vlad did; he altered your memory so it seemed like the last two years didn't happen. He had to, Jazz, because I can't possibly be fourteen again.” He started to sound hysterical. Their Dad's snoring stuttered, pausing as he shifted in his sleep.

“Danny, shush.” Jazz reached out and covered his mouth. “You're starting to sound obsessed.”

He took a deep breath, slowly moved Jazz's hand away from his mouth. “I'm not _obsessed_.”

“You're starting to sound like Dad, back when he thought I was a ghost.”

Danny blinked. “Dad thought _you_ were a ghost? When was this?”

He let out a snort of laughter, covering his mouth to hide his laughter even as Jazz reached over the smack him. “It's _not funny_. This was way back from about a month after the accident. Back when Sam had the menu go green for a week, and I nearly got Dad to...” She trailed off, then reached over to smack him again. “You! This is your fault!”

Danny yelped, recoiling away from Jazz's reach. “What did I do?!”

“You took the thermos and made Dad believe in ghosts. _Right_ when I was about to have him admit ghosts weren't real!” She swatted at open air, Danny just out of her reach. “So this is _your_ fault!”

“Ghosts were real long before the accident, Jazz.” Danny shrugged. “Didn't you hear Dad talk about poltergeists earlier?”

“I didn't!” Jazz pulled back, sitting upright in her seat. “I was reading, because I actually want a future outside of ghost hunting.”

“Speaking of, have Tucker and Sam been doing good without me there to patrol and capture the ghosts?” Danny hadn't realized that Amity Park had been without him for the past week.

Jazz hummed. “Well, they tried for about a week. Until Mom and Dad caught them trying to go after the Crate Creep.”

“Box Ghost.” Danny corrected, resignation heavy on his voice. “We've been _over this_ , Jazz.”

“Yeah.” She waved him off. “So, Mom and Dad took over, and... really, they're actually good at ghost hunting. Which should be less surprising than it is, actually. And without Phantom around, apparently a lot less ghosts have appeared. Ghost X–”

“Skulker.”

“–hasn't even made an appearance _once_. Well, there have been regular sightings at the library, and the news stand, and evenings where the Purpleback Gorilla exhibit used to be at the zoo.”

Danny snorted, and made a note to thank Tucker. “That's... good to hear. And hey, we can figure out that poem stuff when it isn't, like, two in the A.M.”

“Heh, alright, little brother.” Jazz stood up, reaching out to ruffle his hair – which, he flinched, it was justified and fair and she had been smacking him just a moment ago – and went back to bed. He didn't follow, instead sitting and watching the storm. Jazz was good, and a lot of stuff she said made sense – almost _too much_ sense, but... he couldn't trust on her help to stop this. She was good at analyzing, so helping figuring out Vlad's story was more than he expected from her.

He needed Sam.

Danny remained in the driver's seat, listening to the rain. He paused, a frown forming at the edges of his lips as he tried to figure out what was wrong. Something was missi–

“Hey, Danny.” Dad slipped into the passenger-side seat. “Couldn't sleep because of the storm?”

He gave his father a half-smile. “It's pretty loud.”

“That's for sure.” Danny was amazed at how quiet his father was being. For all that the man was big and loud, there were times when he could be so quiet and... not small, exactly. Less big. “So... how much of that did you hear.”

“Just your sister talking up the family.” Dad puffed out his chest, a proud smile on his face. The pose was held for several seconds, and Danny sniggered. Dad's let out a big breath, the smile growing smaller, fonder. “You... know we're proud of you, right? Your mom and me.”

Danny felt his breath catch. What was Dad doing?

“I mean... I know we can be a little hard on you, and that's because there's family standards to maintain, but we know you're brilliant. Your mom and me... we'd never do anything to hurt you or Jazzy-pants.” Dad reached out, and Danny felt an arm wrap around his shoulders, gently squeezing him into a half-hug. “The holiday argument... at this point it's more old habit than an actual argument. We started it in college and back then, it was all kinds of bad. We started a civil war on campus, it spread to the faculty... it was a big mess. When the holidays were over the two of us agreed to do it again the next year. It was a lot of fun.

“That was also the first time I knew I loved your mother.” Danny glanced up at Dad in surprise. They realized they loved each other by that ridiculous holiday fight? How hadn't he known that? “That's also how I proposed. Slipped into her room on Christmas Eve and was gonna leave the box with the ring and a letter explaining everything. If she didn't want to, then she didn't want to. I didn't expect her to wake up, though, so I started pretending I really _was_ Santa, and she played along. I gave her the box and the letter but she told me to stay there while she read it. I was embarrassed that she'd caught me, and expected her to turn me down – what sort of romantic marriage proposal happens at half past midnight on Christmas Eve, with the guy caught in his girlfriend's apartment dressed like Santa? But you know what she did?”

Danny shrugged. What was he supposed to say? “...she said yes?”

“Close.” Dad chuckled. “She folded the letter up, wrote something on the other side of the paper, put it back in the envelope and handed it back to me. 'If you could give this to Jack Fenton,' she said, 'I think he'll want to read it.' So I take the letter, tell her I'll give it to me – that is, Jack Fenton – and leave. Just walk out the door. I fall against the wall, tug down the beard and take the hat off my head, and open the letter. She'd written just one word on the other side: Yes.”

“That's sweet – okay, you gave me a cavity, that's how sweet it was – but, was there a point to telling me all this?” Because Danny really could not see one.

“The point is, sometimes life doesn't go the way you expect it. One day you might be hanging out with friends and family, and then you wake up the next day and suddenly everything's different. Sometimes the different is good, and sometimes it's bad, but it all turns out good, in the end.”

Danny nodded. He felt lightheaded, and tired, and like he was six years old again, falling asleep in Dad's lap. “What would you do if Granddad Fenton came back as a ghost?”

He didn't know where the question came from, but it hung in the air as Dad considered his response. “Where'd that come from?”

“Just... you guys talk a lot about ghosts, and about ripping Inviso-Bill apart molecule by molecule, so... what would you do if family came back as a ghost?” It felt like a question that he'd had answered in the past – what would his parents do if they found out that he was a half-ghost – but now, half-asleep in the comfort of Dad's arms, it felt like he'd never asked that question before.

“Well, first I'd ask what made him come back.” Dad's voice was quiet, almost unnaturally so. “I'd tell him that it was too soon for him to go. But most of all, I'd tell him that I still loved him, and was even proud of him.”

Danny blinked sleepily at his father. “Even if he was a ghost?”

“Even if he was a ghost.” Dad picked up Danny, carrying the teen through the RV. “Now let's get you back to bed. We won't get back home until late tomorrow evening. We're gonna need all the sleep we can get.”

“Why would you still love him?” Danny felt himself ask the questions, even as he was set down on the makeshift bunk. “He's a ghost.”

“Because he's family.” Dad pulled at the blanket, and Danny shifted so it fell away easier. “Because the love you feel for family means more than whatever feelings you have toward whatever or whoever they're interested in, or whatever they've become. If he were a ghost, I'd still love him.”

Danny had the blanket laid over him, and he fell asleep as his father's snores started up again.

~~* * *~~

The return home felt nostalgic.

Danny found himself aware of things, ordinary things, that he'd never taken notice of before. How the front door was warped, ever so slightly, that it needed to be pushed to open and shoved to close. The faint smell of lemon-scented cleaner mixed with the cold buzz of ectoplasm that permeated the living room. The stains on the coffee table. The acrid smell of burnt turkey in the kitchen, from the time the turkey came back to life and Jazz had to fight it off with the broom.

They were all so ordinary, but he took to them like they'd been missing from his life. Like he'd been spending all this time wearing shoes but not socks and had started wearing socks again.

Dad ordered pizza for dinner, calling it in when they were still on the road, so it would arrive at the same time they did. Danny almost asked for vegetarian – Sam hadn't been successful at getting him to go vegan, vegetarian was more than enough in his opinion – when he remembered. She probably wouldn't remember that they were together, at first. He could cheat, could eat meat, just this once. So long as he rinsed out his mouth extra hard, then Tucker wouldn't be able to smell it and tell Sam.

Pepperoni pizza tasted so much better than he remembered.

“So,” he began between bites of pizza. “How, uh, long until I get back to school?”

“Well, we need to meet with Principal Ishiyama to discuss your options. You've missed almost half the school year, and tutoring can only take you so far.” Mom set her half-eaten slice of mushroom on the plate. “We can look into getting you into a couple classes – biology and trigonometry, for one – but expect summer school to happen this year. Maybe next year as well, depending on what classes you can get into before the end of the month.”

Danny grimaced at the thought of two years of summer school. Jazz patted him on the back in sympathy. “I can help tutor you, and I can talk to Star about helping you with the classes she's in. Together, we should be able to get you to pass the exams.”

He doubted that. Even after two years, his grades weren't that impressive, and he didn't think that the exams he was going to take were over stuff he was likely to remember, or had recently studied. “Still, it'll be good to get back into the swing of things. Catch up with Sam and Tuck. We can go to the mall and hang.”

“You most certainly are not.” Dad admonished between bites. “You're grounded.”

“What?! Why?” What did he do to deserve that?

“Because we may be happy you're back, that doesn't mean we're not going to punish you for running away in the first place.” Dad took a bite of pizza. “Grounded, until we say otherwise. You can't go anywhere that either your mother or myself aren't.”

“So I can't see my friends?!” This was so unfair!

“If they come here, then you can see them. But no movie nights at Sam's house, or game nights at Tucker's.” Mom chimed in. “We lost you once, we're not losing you again.”

“Even if I promise not to run away again?” He'd been half-joking when he'd said that, but as soon as the words left his mouth he could tell that it hadn't been good. His stomach curdled at the shocked and scared faces of his family. He set the slice of pizza down, not feeling hungry. “Um. Sorry. Morbid humor. I'm– I'm not gonna leave. That wasn't– I didn't– I didn't mean anything by it.”

“Well, I think that brings an end to dinner.” Mom stiffly returned her uneaten slice back into the box, closed it, and stood up. “Jack?”

Dad looked pale, and faintly green. He set down his own slice. He stood, the chair scraping on the floor. “Yeah. Dinner's done. Let's– let's put it away and, uh, get to bed. It's been a long day, we're all tired.”

“Yes. Good.” Jazz joined in. The pizza boxes were all closed, the paper plates tossed in the trash. Mom closed the fridge harder than usual. Danny was bussed upstairs, Jazz slipping into her room with a murmured “good night” while he was lead into his room.

Mom kissed him on the cheek. She and Dad both hugged him too tight, lingered in the doorway. Danny made shooing gestures. “Go. Sleep. I haven't slept in my bed for... actually, I can barely remember the last time I had a good night's sleep.” He chuckled. It felt forced, almost. “Guess that means I'm long overdue for a good night's sleep in my bed. And so are you. I'm still gonna be here in the morning, I promise.”

They didn't look completely convinced, but Danny was able to get them out of his room, and on the way toward their own bedroom. He shut the door, pressed his back to it, and sank down. He let out a deep breath; while he could sneak out, could find Sam and help her remember and fix things by morning, he couldn't. He suspected that his parents were going to check in on him throughout the night – probably every ten minutes – and if they found the bedroom empty...

No. He couldn't do that. Not to them. Even if they couldn't remember his ghost powers, running out of them after promising that he wasn't going to do that was... not him.

Plus, the drive actually _was_ exhausting, and he could survive one night without patrolling the town, right?

...yeah, he was _so_ screwed. He'd bet money on Skulker popping in, or the Box Ghost.

Sighing, Danny looked around his room. It looked familiar, painfully so, and made his breath hitch for reasons he couldn't quite understand. It felt like... nostalgia, Danny decided. He didn't know why, but it felt like coming back home after being away for far too long.

There were little details about his bedroom that he had forgotten were there. He spotted Doomed cards scattered across the floor; dirty clothes peeked out of the closet; the U.S.S. Hartman blueprints pinned to the wall, with frayed edges; the scale model of Apollo 16 hanging from the ceiling by fishing wire. Standing up, Danny saw the rough bumps of his desk where the glue bottle had leaked out, the streaks of black paint that refused to be removed. Simple details, like the rest of the house, but things that told him that he was undeniably _home_.

His eyes itched, and his vision became blurry. Danny wiped away the tears, even as he questioned why he was crying in the first place. He chalked it up to exhaustion, and dug through the dresser for his pajamas. The purple long-sleeve shirt and pants were in his hands and the drawer was halfway closed when he remembered that it was mid-spring; the weather was too hot to wear his long pajamas.

With the realization the skin of his back started to itch and crawl, and his hair felt matted and heavy against his scalp. Danny took a cursory sniff at his shirt, cringing at how ragged it was but otherwise found he didn't smell too terrible. Still, he reasoned, he was overdue to take a shower. He walked over to the dresser, but paused at the state of his desk. He pressed a finger down on the desktop, and frowned when it came up with dust. A lot of dust. Like he hadn't touched or cleaned the thing in months. The frown deepened when his dresser was the same way.

Pulling out a clean pair of boxers and an oversized green tee, Danny stopped at his bed to untie his shoes and pull off his socks. He returned to the door, opening it to see his parents hovering outside it. They looked at the shirt and boxers draped over one arm, then looked at him. Danny gave his parents an unimpressed stare. “I'm going to shower. These are my pajamas. I'd really like it if I could shower in _peace_ , but if you're gonna helicopter parent me all night, at least do it from _outside_ the bathroom.”

Danny sidestepped his parents, walking over to the linen closet and pulling out a large, fluffy towel. The cotton felt so soft under his touch, that he took a moment to rub the towel on his face. He made a happy noise at the feel of the towel on his face.

Dad coughed to cover a snigger, and Danny froze. He felt his face grow hot with blush as he realized that his parents had watched him nuzzle a towel. He coughed. “Right. So. Bathroom.”

He scampered away to the sound of his parents' laughter.

The bathroom tiles felt cold on his feet. He set the towel on the toilet – after closing the lid – and took off his clothes, tossing them into the hamper. Despite the initial chill water, the shower felt refreshing. Muscles relaxed and hair plastered to his scalp, and Danny closed his eyes.

Warm showers always felt calming to him, allowed him to collect his thoughts. To start, there was the wording GhostWriter had used – first, that the poem would end when the lesson was learned, then later, that the story would end when the lesson was learned. He figured, at the time, that GhostWriter had meant that the poem was the story. But if that wasn't right, then...

Danny picked up the loofah, ran the bar of soap over it, and started scrubbing at his legs. He couldn't start believing Vlad's story _now_ , although... it actually hadn't been Vlad to start the whole thing about him being a book; _Walker_ had been the one to say it, after having GhostWriter dragged from the room. Which fit with that Danny last remembered: GhostWriter's voice interrupting Danny flying off into the sunset with Sam, who'd been about to tell him that she– no. He couldn't dwell on that now. What was important was understanding whatever GhostWriter did to start all of this. What had he said?

_His response stopped as the author so penned, for this story has now reached The End._

Danny rolled his shoulders, trying to keep from shivering. Even repeating GhostWriter's words in his head, it felt too heavy, too final. He moved to the other leg, and reconsidered. If GhostWriter _was_ the reason behind the change, then he could've just changed Danny's story. Rebooted the story, and Danny's life, and for what? GhostWriter only got him into Walker's prison, but Danny had been told that the one thousand years he was supposed to serve had been absolved. Vlad had had Danny in his clutches for several days, but did nothing except give him back to his family.

Danny blinked. _Wait..._

_What if... I'm not me?_

Vlad had Danny in his clutches, and the last thing he remembered before passing out was floating in front of the older man's portal. He'd woken up, but that wasn't for very long, and he was in the hospital. Vlad was good with clones, but did that mean he pulled a switch? _Could_ he have pulled a switch?

He dismissed the thought. Even if Vlad had perfected the clones, he couldn't do a memory switch. And he doubted the actual Danny, in that scenario, wouldn't have escaped long before now. Without the clones, and when he considered that the billionaire hadn't so much as even _tried_ to antagonize Dad, or come onto Mom, doubt began to seep into his theories.

So. If it wasn't Vlad, then who? Desiree could make everyone forget – it wouldn't be the first time – but Danny wasn't sure if she could de-age him just like that. Moreover, she needed someone to make the wish. Did one of his classmates wish to relive their high school years? Dash had always made it known that his high school sports career was the highlight of his light, but Danny didn't think he was one to be so nostalgic. One of the other A-listers then? He wouldn't put it past any one of them to have made a wish to relive high school. But...

Danny sighed. Until he went back to Casper, he couldn't figure out which of them made the wish. He'd have to get Sam and Tucker on it, looking to see if any of the A-listers acted any different. It was possible that Desiree had a part in all this, but that didn't explain GhostWriter's part in getting Danny. Maybe... it was to pull Danny out of the wish? He groaned, sidelining that line of thought. It was sending him in circles.

Who was next: Freakshow? Danny snorted. That guy was...

Danny froze. He'd left Freakshow with the Guys in White after the summer involving the Reality Gauntlet. The next time he'd seen the guy was during the Disasteriod, when he'd gathered the entirety of the Ghost Zone. Freakshow had been... a ghost? What did that mean, then? Did Freakshow's ghost envy turn him into a ghost? He made a note to talk to Jazz about that, and switched topics.

Nocturne.

The sudden change to everything, his memories of a different life than everyone else's. It... explained so much. Almost everything. His life was almost perfect. He'd become a worldwide hero, saved the world, had the girlfriend of his dreams... all that was wrong was that he'd wanted to go back to before he was harassed by fans. It wouldn't take much to take Danny out. It hadn't before.

But that was the problem with it being Nocturne: he _had_ gone through all this before. And before, he hadn't been in the dream world for this long. And not just that, but the little details: the glue stains, the dust, the acrid smell of turkey, the warped front door. All of them were things that he hadn't noticed before, like they were missing.

Danny set aside the loofah, put some shampoo in his hands, and started to lather his scalp. He didn't want to consider it, but there was another possibility: Clockwork. The time ghost had access to multiple timelines, multiple futures and pasts. It would've been beyond easy to drop Danny in an alternate timeline. But... Danny didn't have a time medallion on him. There could be one in him, but he couldn't pull it out himself. And Clockwork hated to meddle, only doing so when the Observants ordered him to.

And if it was a different timeline, then why drop Danny in it? Why the song and dance with GhostWriter and Walker and him being trapped in a book?

Everything left him with more and more questions. Each possibility explained some things, but not others. He was circling, chasing an answer that he couldn't see.

He needed to talk to Sam. She, at least, would be able to help him figure things out.

Danny finished washing up, bent his knees, and started to float. He kept his eyes closed, and felt for that spark of nothingness, of intangi–

Oh.

Right. His parents. He'd forgotten. They didn't remember that he had powers, and it would be suspicious if he walked out of the bathroom bone dry after having supposedly taken a shower. Danny shook his head, dabbed at himself so he wasn't quite so dripping wet, and wrapped the towel around his waist.

He stepped into the empty hallway – his parents had finally gone to their bedroom, it seemed – and walked through the silence, back to his bedroom. Despite how much he dried himself off, the shirt still clung to his back, and the boxers stuck to his thighs and butt. He climbed into bed, fingered the cotton blanket – it felt so much softer than he remembered, and warmer despite the spring chill – and closed his eyes.

Danny could find Sam and Tucker tomorrow, during his parents' meeting with Ishiyama. He could ask to take a walk around, get to know where his classes would be – after all, he hadn't been in the building since early December, and it would be easier than if he just spent the first half of his first week back late to all his classes – and then find Sam, or Tucker, and conspire to meet up. Easy.

~~* * *~~

Why was it, Danny wondered, that every time he said something was easy, it wound up being one of the hardest things he'd ever done?

Danny had gotten up with Jazz at 6 A.M., and had phased through the floor and into the kitchen before waking up enough to remember that, no, his parents did not remember about his ghost powers, so it was _completely_ suspicious and unspeakably bad if Mom turned away from the stove to see her son floating near the ceiling. He'd turned invisible, floated back up into his room, and had had to remember to _open_ his bedroom door.

From there, the morning hadn't gone well. Danny was tying his shoes when Mom popped in to tell him that they wouldn't be meeting with Principal Ishiyama until eleven. This meant that Danny could easily find Sam or Tuck – eleven was one of the two lunch periods, which meant he had even odds of finding his friends in the cafeteria – but it also meant that Danny now had five hours of free time. He couldn't patrol, because his parents kept peeking in on him so much that he'd given up on finding time to himself to transform and do a sweep of the town. He couldn't go out, because it was a school day, someone was bound to spot him, and then there would be a call to the high school's truancy office – assuming that he even got out of the house without both parents practically attached to his hip.

So. Five hours to himself. He tried playing Doomed but his subscription had run out back in December. Solitaire had occupied all of twenty minutes before he became bored of that. Eventually, Danny had put on his headphones, set his music to Dumpty Humpty, and rocked out while cleaning his room. The dust was swiped away, dirty clothes tossed in the hamper, and he even spent half an hour digging through every inch of the room for Doomed cards. By the time he finished, it was... 8:30.

Danny groaned, flopped onto his bed – which he'd made, the bedding having had the dust beaten out of them on the open windowsill – and stared at his ceiling. His bedroom was spotless, and he still didn't have anywhere to go or anything to do for another two hours. He glanced at the full hamper, and shrugged.

The laundry was put into the wash, and on the way he'd noticed that the living room needed vacuuming, and the sink was full of dishes. Idly, he mused as he pulled on the rubber gloves (not latex, Mom had an allergy, and Danny as well), there had to be a special kind of boredom that he was actively seeking out chores. Soon enough, the dishes were done, the living room vacuumed, and Danny was huffing at the clock's face.

9:00.

He frowned. It felt like there was something he was forgetting. His parents had gone back to working in the lab – which didn't stop one of them from coming up and checking up on Danny, as well as giving him a hug – so he couldn't clea–

The ectofiltrator.

“Sweet-tarts!” Danny cursed and ran down the stairs of the lab, almost crashing into his Dad.

Dad furrowed his brow, reaching out and pulling the teen back onto his feet. “Careful there, Danny. You almost knocked me over.”

“The ectofiltrator.” Danny felt himself babbling, moving toward the portal. He hadn't been there to change it, not since the million dollar bounty. “It hasn't been changed since–”

“Whoa, hey, easy there, Dann-o.” Dad gently took hold of Danny's shoulders, guiding him to the nearest chair. “The ectofiltrator's been replaced already. It shouldn't need replacing for another five months, at least.”

“Really?” Danny felt lightheaded, and swayed in the seat. They were safe. Nothing was going to explode. He breathed out, feeling far too shaky for his comfort. “That–that's good. That's good.”

Mom came over, and she shared a look with Dad. “Sweetie, are you alright?”

“I'm good. Great. Perfect.” He voice was shaky, and he took a couple deep breaths.

“Are you sure?” Dad crouched down, so he was on level with Danny. “You can trust us, kiddo. Mads?”

Mom pulled a chair over, dug out a penlight from a drawer, and sat across from Danny. She had a frown on her face. “Sweetie, I'm going to shine this light into your eyes, is that alright?”

“Yeah, it's fine.” Danny gave her a weird look, and tried not to squint too badly when she clicked the light on and shone it in his right eye. The penlight moved away from shining into his eye, then back, and away again. She was checking his pupil dilation, Danny realized. Mom hummed, her mouth tilted down as she squinted. She tested the other eye, before clicking the penlight off and leaning back. “So do I get the clean bill of health?”

“Danny,” Mom began, sounding far too hesitant for Danny's liking. “You just had a very mild panic attack. Sweetie, is there anything you want to talk to us about?”

 _That I'm Danny Phantom. That apparently you don't remember the past two years. That I'm terrified of large fires because I watched you die in one, once._ “No.”

~~* * *~~

Ten-thirty came far too soon, and then they were walking through a side entrance in the school, through the faculty offices, into Principal Ishiyama's office. Greetings were given, and everyone sat down. Principal Ishiyama had a large smile on her face. “I'm glad to hear that young Danny was found and returned home safely.”

“Thank you.” Mom replied, she intertwined her fingers. “We understand that it's late in the semester, but if Danny could return...”

“He's quite behind his peers.” Principal Ishiyama gave Danny a sidelong stare. “Danny has already missed an entire quarter, and we're almost halfway through the latter half of the semester. Even with extensive tutoring, I don't think–”

“I'll take it!” He would, of course. Tutoring, remedial lessons, whatever was necessary to be able to graduate wit his friends. “I can take a normal course load for the rest of the quarter, and catch up on all my missed stuff with – ugh – summer school!”

One summer was a small price to pay in the bigger picture. Plus, he likely wouldn't need it when he figured out what had caused this change to everything and everyone's memories, and undid it.

Principal Ishiyama didn't look entirely convinced, and Danny sat back as his parents chimed in, explaining how they would help fill in whatever gaps there were. Ishiyama relented with a sigh, stood, and walked over to the file cabinets. “Very well. But this far into the quarter, there are only so many classes you can sign up for. We can accept you back as early as Monday, but I wouldn't recommend–”

“Deal!” Monday was perfect – it was already Thursday, so he had the weekend to prepare for... “What's my schedule?”

Ishiyama dug out several files, shuffling through them as she returned to her desk. “There is still remedial lessons to be had, which we can discuss the details of later, but for now I would suggest that he take biology, trigonometry, english 2, and history 2.”

“And those are the files for those classes?” Mom glanced at the stack of files now sitting on the desk. Ishiyama nodded.

“Of course. Marlene can have copies of the syllabi drawn up and ready by the time our meeting is over. Now, if we can discuss his remedial studies, as well as a tutoring schedule...?” Ishiyama gestured, and her secretary, a plump, dark-skinned woman with a large smile, took the files. “Marlene, if you could make sure copies of the textbooks for these classes are set aside as well? That would be nice.”

Danny raised his hand. “If this doesn't really need me, then can I go?”

“What? Why?” Dad piped up, staring at Danny in surprise.

“Because I'd like to know where all my classes are? I haven't been around the building in a couple months, it'd be nice to get familiar with the place again.” Danny shrugged. “Besides, knowing where all my classes are now will save me a lot of detention next week, right? Don't wanna be late to them.”

His parents shared a pointed look, before agreeing. Danny dashed out of the principal's office, skidding by Marlene's desk to pick up the list of classrooms to locate. The last thing he heard from the office was Dad asking for details about the biology class.

Danny's first stop was the cafeteria. He scanned the crowd, through the mass of heads. Some of them he recognized – like Mikey, Starr, Kwan, and Paulina – but he didn't see either of his friends. He turned around, and nearly crashed into Mr. Lancer.

“Mr. Fenton!” Lancer sounded surprised to see him, and he winced when the nearby chatter paused. “Your friends have the _next_ lunch period, I'm afraid, so you're going to miss them. That said, there are rules about disenrolled students loitering on school grounds.”

“I'm not disenrolled.” Danny waved the papers about. “Totally re-enrolled. Starting up next week.”

Lancer grabbed at the papers, glancing over them with an unimpressed eye. “So it seems. Would I be correct in the assumption that you were looking for your friends for a lunchtime pow-wow?”

“...pow-wow?” Danny silently added the word to the list of things Lancer should never say again. Or any adult. Or anyone, really.

Lancer seemed to have taken the hint. “Has that word become _un-_ hip?”

“It never _was_ hip.” He couldn't believe he was having this conversation. He watched with horror as Lancer pulled out his copy of _How to Sound Hip for the Un-Hip_ , pulled out a marker, and scribbled something in it. “I thought you were against marking books.”

“I am against the destruction of books.” Lancer put the book and marker away. He turned, stepping away from the cafeteria. Danny followed. “But as someone with a degree in English, I apologize if I've ever given the impression of wanting books to remain pristine. Broken spines, torn pages, book burnings. These are the kinds of destruction I am against.” Lancer waved Danny's papers. “As luck would have it, I am in the midst of a free period. If you like, I can walk you through the school. A tour of the classrooms you will be occupying for the remainder of this quarter.”

Lancer looked at Danny, half-expecting him to decline. Danny glanced back at the cafeteria, where he could hear his name being tossed around. He shrugged. “Sure, why not.”

Lancer blinked, and Danny suspected that the man hadn't expected him to agree. “Very well.” The two of them walked along, up the stairs to the second floor. “I assume you remember your locker, and its combination?”

“Don't think I'll ever forget it.” Danny rolled his eyes, a smile on the edges of his lips as he remembered Poindexter.

“Excellent.” The two of them rounded a corner, and Lancer paused in front of 225. “Here is your biology class. Lecture three days of the week, and you meet in 227 next door for the other two days.” They continued on, rounding another corner. Lancer gestured at a classroom on the other side of the hallway. “234, where your trigonometry class is.”

The hallways were mostly empty. It was strange, not seeing the school full of students. Eerie. Danny glanced at Lancer out of the corner of his eye. The man had an English degree, and taught the same class. If anyone was going to help Danny solve the issue of GhostWriter's wording, it would be Lancer. “Say I was writing a story...”

Lancer glanced down at the teen. “Go on.”

“In it, the main character cheeses off someone–”

“Cheeses off?”

“Offends. The other guy's angry. Never repeat that phrase.” Danny took a deep breath. “Anyway, the other guy's angry. So he magics the main character–”

“Protagonist.” Danny glared at Lancer, who remained unruffled. “Easier to say.”

“Fine! The protagonist gets magicked into a poem. He's told, and I quote in rhyme, you're stuck in this poem 'til your lesson is learned. Unquote. So, in the poem, the protagonist lives through life as he's taught a lesson about learning to like Christmas. Eventually, he finds the guy he cheesed off–”

“Antagonist.”

“He finds the antagonist, who exists in the poem. The antagonist is stopped, but the poem continues. The protagonist is told, and again I quote, there are two ways to end this poem, just two. I tap out the end – but I can't, thanks to you! So now you'll guide the story of the ghost who hates Christmas.”

“Ghost?” Lancer raised and eyebrow.

“It's a story!” Danny retorted, defensively. “He also said, and again I quite, the story's not done 'til the lesson is learned. Now, the problem is, in the story, the protagonist learns his lesson, the poem stops, and he goes on the save the world. But then, he's woken up and told that the antagonist was allowed to write the end of the story. Everything that happened after the poem ended, _and_ after the lesson was learned, the protagonist is told that none of it was real. So, he doesn't know whether or not to believe that what happened was reality, or what was happening is reality. All he has to go on is what the antagonist said.”

Lancer was silent. He pointed at 137. “That's my english 2 class you're in, right here. Down the hall is 122, where your history class is.” The teacher hummed. “I think... that the protagonist spent the entire time in this story of the ghost who hates Christmas.”

“But why?!” Danny didn't understand – _why_ did Lancer believe that what happened wasn't reality? “He learned his lesson, so the story ended.”

“But that isn't what was stated from the outset.” Lancer stepped into the classroom. “The poem will end when the lesson is learned, and so it did, as you said.”

“But the story–”

“All poems tell a story, but they are not stories themselves. Poetry tells snippets of a story, not the story itself.” Lancer sat at his desk. “Although I must ask that you bring this story of yours to my desk someday. I would love to read a good piece of metafiction, especially with the addition of a frame narrative.”

“Metafiction? Frame narrative?”

Lancet let out a long-suffering sigh. Which, Danny figured, was kinda insulting; he wasn't even _in_ Lancer's class yet! “Metafiction is a story about a story, such as the one you are, supposedly, writing. Frame narrative is a story within a story, which is the plot you are describing.”

“But– it doesn't make sense!” Danny growled, grabbing at his hair. “I– he was told that the story would end when the lesson was learned.”

“It makes perfect sense.” Lancer replied, handing Danny's papers out for the teen to grab. “The protagonist is told of two ways for the poem to end. He is not told of any ways to bring an end to the story. As you said, the lesson was learned, so the poem ended. And the antagonist wrote the end of the story, so that came to an end. The two are not mutually exclusive, that is certain, but they are separate enough to require separate endings. Poems contain stories, but they can never be a story. Now I suggest you take your papers back. Principal Ishiyama should be done talking to your parents by now, and they must be looking for you.”

Danny took the proffered papers, and turned around. He needed time to process what Lancer had said. “Uh, thanks for the help.”

“You're welcome.” Lancer shuffled some papers. “And Mr. Fenton?”

Danny winced. “Yeah.”

“The protagonist.” Lancer entwined his fingers. “I believe that he would be best served accepting the truth of what happened. If he denies it, then it will lead to denying his reality. He may even begin to desire the fictional reality he was trapped in, if he doesn't already. I would be loathe to provide him advice, but... he should let go of the story and move on. No good ever comes of dwelling in the past, much less the past of what could have been.”

~~* * *~~

The phone rang. Danny looked up from his growing pile of notes and picked it up. “Danny!”

“Jazz?” Why was she calling? He glanced at the clock – it was almost 3:30, she should've been home already. He waved at Mom, who was soldering at the kitchen table again, but she didn't notice. He repressed a groan, tossing his pen. It clattered across the table, and got her attention. Danny waved her over. “What's wrong? Is it a ghost?”

Mom stood, picking up the kitchen receiver. “Jazz, what's wrong?”

“Mom?” Jazz sounded surprised. “What, no! Look, I'm sorry. They cornered me after eighth period, pressed me for details. Danny, they're coming for you.”

“What? Who's coming.” Danny shared an alarmed look with Mom.

“I'm driving, so I can't talk. Just be prepared. I'm sorry.” Jazz cut off, leaving behind a dial tone.

“Jazz? Jazz!” Danny set the receiver down, saw Mom do the same. They shared a bemused look before someone started banging on the front door.

“Danny Fenton!” Danny blinked, shocked. That was Sam's voice. How did she beat Jazz here – Jazz had a car! The pounding stopped. There was a muffled second voice, and the doorknob turned. Danny leaned forward, peering at the doorway as the front door creaked open.

“See? You didn't have to kick the door down.” Danny's lips cracked into a smile at hearing Tucker's voice. Tucker, for his part, called into the house. “Sorry, Dr. Fenton. We're coming in!”

Danny's bit back on his laughter as both his friends came in. In the kitchen, Mom shook her head with a far too fond smile on her face, moving back to the table and picking up the soldering iron. He gave a half-wave from within the sea of textbooks. “Hey, guys!”

“Danny!” Sam froze at the sight of him, and Tucker froze as well. The two of them stared, astonished, at Danny, who stared back, considerably less astonished. Sam stomped over, looming over where Danny was sprawled out on the floor, and for a brief second he felt terrified that she was about to hurt him. She grabbed him by the shoulders, hefted him onto his feet – _was I always smaller than her?_ – and pulled Danny into a tight hug. “You idiot! Running away like that was so _stupidly_ you.”

Danny blinked, hesitantly reaching out to hug her back. She smelled like books and something vaguely flowery – her soap, he realized. He hadn't realized how much he missed it. His eyes began to water, and he blinked back tears.

That was about as far as he got before Sam's hug tightened to almost dangerous levels, and he started to find it hard to breath. He flailed his arms, patting Sam to try to get her to stop, or at least ease up. Tucker intervened, prying Sam's arms away from where they'd somehow wrapped around Danny's neck. “Sam! No murdering your best friend!”

Sam froze in her aggressive hugging, giving Tucker a nonplussed look. “Who's murdering anybody? I'm not murdering anyone. I'm just giving my best friend a hug.”

Danny wheezed, patting at her arms. He couldn't phase through them, not with Mom _right there_ in the other room, and so had to rely on Tucker to talk Sam out of pushing his other foot into the grave. Tucker returned Sam's nonplussed stare. “Hugging doesn't involve one person turning blue.”

“Fine.” Sam released Danny, and he stood up, wheezing and gasping.

“What do you _do_ to exercise?” He coughed out. “Your arms are like steel.”

“Or maybe you just suck at physical exercise.” Sam automatically retorted, hitting him in the shoulder. “Now, can we get out of here, and away from the prying ears of certain spectral fighting individuals?”

“We can go talk up in my room.” Danny leaned down, picking up the textbooks. “Help me out here, I've got three months of school to catch up on before Monday.”

Tucker winced, but moved down to help pick up textbooks. “That's rough.” He glanced at one of the covers. “Oh man, Shakespeare? You've got Lancer's class?”

“It was either him or cram French for the exam they've got on Tuesday.” At the surprised glances of his best friends, Danny elaborated. “I ran into Mikey earlier – he's taking the class and told me to be lucky I didn't get Mrs. Cosette's French class. She's apparently jumped Mikey's class into half a dozen different verbs forms this week.”

They walked up the stairs, pushing into Danny's room. With a groan of the bedsprings, the textbooks all got dumped on the mattress. Behind Tucker, the door creaked shut. Sam rounded on Danny. “ _Where were you_?”

“Uh... here?” Danny didn't understand what she was asking – unless... “I mean, then I was at Walker's prison, Vlad took me back to his portal, I passed out and woke up in the hospital – which reminds me to test if I have my ice powers back – my family drove up, I got released from the hospital, and just got back here last night?”

Apparently, that wasn't what she meant. Sam groaned into her hands, giving Tucker a long-suffering look. “I thought we _checked_ Walker's prison!”

“We did! The Booomerang came back to us, it didn't find anything!”

“Wait, guys–”

“And we kept checking Vlad's place but Danny _just_ said he went there–”

“Whoa, hey, guys–”

“I checked the Booomerang like five times! It was working, and it couldn't find Danny – not here, or in the Ghost Zone!”

“Wait, you guys threw the Booomerang? And it _didn't_ hit me?”

“Well apparently it was wrong.”

“Don't blame me for that tech issue.”

“It _always_ hits me. And in the head too – why does it even do that, anyway?”

“Well, _you're_ the tech genius.”

“So automatically it's my fault.”

“If the techno-shoe fits...”

“And in the back of the head too, like some sort of weapon. Maybe it _is_ a weapon. I wouldn't put it past Dad to do that.” Danny's voice deepened, his shoulder squaring as he tried to take up as much room as Dad did. “Hey, Dann-o, look at this new weapon! It tracks down ghosts and hits them in the head, where it hurts. The scream of pain means it works!”

He finished to a quiet room. Sam and Tucker were giving him weird looks. Tucker half-shrugged. “Not a bad impression of your dad. 7.5/10.”

“...okay, you guys were arguing with each other, and I was invisible – and not the literal kind of invisible – so that was a rant you guys were supposed to ignore.” Danny frowned as their argument sparked a memory. “Wait, you guys bothered Vlad every other day?”

“Whoa, okay, it wasn't every other day.” Sam held up her hands, sharing a glance with Tucker. “More like twice a week.”

“For _four months_?” Which, speaking of... “And I wasn't even with him! Didn't you guys listen when I said I was here, then suddenly at Walker's prison?” Danny groaned. “Look, I didn't vanish for four months. Something happened and now we're fourteen again.”

“...right.” Tucker nodded, not looking like he believed Danny. “And how old are we supposed to be?”

“Sixteen.” Danny rolled his eyes, letting the ' _duh_ ' go unheard. “You're mayor, Sam's my girlfriend, and I'm a–”

“Okay, whoa, hold up.” Sam held up a hand, stopping Danny. “You cannot start buying into Dash's taunting _now_. I'm not your girlfriend.”

“Actually...”

“No.” Sam shook her head. “Nope. I don't know what ghost has gotten into you, but we,” she waved a hand between herself and Danny, “are not an item. The fake-out make-out happened _once_ , and that was almost a year ago.”

“No, that was two years ago.” Danny bit back a groan of frustration. “Do you remember that time you made that wish and we forgot everything? This is just like that time, okay?”

“Ooookay?” Sam shared a look with Tucker. “But that didn't turn back time.”

“Yeah, I thought only that time ghost could do that.” Tucker glanced at Danny for backup.

“Clockwork.” Danny corrected. “And he can, which is why none of this makes sense. GhostWriter can randomly change my location, which explains why I heard him and suddenly appeared in Walker's prison, but...”

He trailed off. There was a lot he wasn't telling them – his theories,what Lancer said about GhostWriter's wording, Vlad's story. “Look, at first I thought it was Vlad, but he didn't do anything. Milk Duds, he even handed me back to my parents.”

“Milk Duds?” Sam shared a glance with Tucker. “Are you... sure he didn't do anything?”

“Because you're swearing with candies.” Tucker added.

“Like you keep telling us Vlad does.” Sam finished. “Which, until I actually _met_ the creep, I thought you were joking about that.”

“I picked it up.” Danny replied, deadpan. “ _You_ try having him over for dinner every night and not end up sounding like the fruitloop.” He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Look, can we get back on topic?”

“Right, sorry.” Tucker waved for Danny to continue. Danny opened his mouth to reply when he paused. He walked over to the door, opening it and staring at the concerned faces of his dad and sister.

“Dad! Jazz! What a surprise!” Sarcasm dripped heavily from his words. “As you can see, I'm in the middle of catching up with my friends. I'm fine, I'm here, so you can go back to whatever you were doing before. Sam and Tuck probably aren't staying for dinner, which I'm guessing is the leftover pizza from yesterday. So, I'll talk to you later. Okay? Okay.”

Danny politely, and calmly, shut the door in their faces. Tucker whistled. “Dude, harsh.”

“Wait twenty minutes. Someone's gonna be on the other side of that door. Probably my mom; she and Dad have been switching out all day. I can't believe I'm about to say this, but I can't wait for Monday to come.” Danny shuddered. “I'm actually _looking forward_ to school. What has my life become?”

“Anything but boring?” Sam said wryly. Danny snorted.

“Understatement.” He rolled his eyes. “But getting back on track, I've considered Vlad, but any way I look at it, he had me, and then he didn't. And, how did he even get back from space?!”

“Uh, You're getting a little ahead of the story there, Danny.” Tucker pointed out. “Rewind. How did Vlad end up in space.”

“The Disasteriod.” Danny groaned out. He was starting to get annoyed at having to explain it, much less defend that it happened. He flopped down on his bed, and retold everything that happened. When he was done, Danny held up his hand and started in on his theories about what changed. He hesitated when he got to the wording of GhostWriter's declaration, but said that Jazz was already on that. Through it all Sam and Tucker were quiet, although they shared more than a small number of concerned looks.

Sam was the one to break the silence. “Danny... are you sure that it all was real? Not that we're doubting you or anything!” She waved her hands when he gave her a pointed glare, eyes glowing a luminescent green. “Just, that all sounds so... not us?”

“This fine guy, become mayor of the town?” Tucker gestured at himself. “I can't go into governmental power; that's a waste of my good looks!”

“And giving up your powers? _Losing_ them?” Sam looked wary. “Danny... I thought you grew to like your powers?”

“For a while there, I did. I just... I needed a bit of normal, y'know?” Danny sighed. “Sometimes it gets exhausting, being the big hero. At that point, with the Masters' Blasters doing such a good job, I wanted a vacation. The fans were on the lookout for me _all the time_ , and I had to get away from all that attention. Plus, I wanted to graduate with everyone. Being Danny Phantom was... exhausting. It still is, really. My grades... well, I'm tanking _everything_. Things are a little better now, but sometimes I wanted it to go back to before I had fans, and when I still had a chance of getting into a good college. Based on my GPA, I mean, because a good number of the Ivy Leagues sent me offers on scholarship; the offers were labeled as thanks for saving the world, and... I don't wanna get into college because I saved the world. It doesn't feel right.”

“Because it's _such_ a bad thing if you ever misused the influence you have as a hero.” Sam rolled her eyes, meant it as a joke, but Danny recoiled. Memories of flames and heat, of clawed fingers curled around his neck and a whisper, a promise – _I'm inevitable_ – seeped into his mind, steeped him in their hold.

“Don't say that.” He felt himself saying, but he felt detached from the present, trapped in the embers of a moment that never happened. “I wouldn't do that– I'd _never_ do that. So don't–don't suggest that I abuse my powers like that.”

“Right.” Sam's grin fell away at the expression on Danny's face, the desperation in his voice. “Is... everything alright?”

 _No._ “Yes.”

“Are you sure?” Sam glanced at Tucker, who shook his head, reluctant to go near something so sensitive. Sam gave him a pointed stare. “Because you don't sound alright.”

“Well, there's the fact that we've all been de-aged two years, I'm the only one to _remember_ those two years, everyone seems determined to nitpick at everything that happened during those two years – especially the Disasteriod, and I'm grounded and can't go ghost and vent on whatever ghosts are in town, so, gee, I might not be alright.” Danny's voice became more and more caustic the longer he spoke. His hands balled into fists, the bedding bunching between his fingers.

Danny took a deep breath, unclenched his fingers. It was pointless to get angry with his friends, especially when they were trying to help. He just... he needed them to remember. He needed something, anything, to jog their memory. Something shocking, something–

He sat up and reached out, placing his hands on either side of Sam's face. He pulled her close, and stretched his own head up to meet hers. The kiss wasn't neat, or pretty; mostly, it was Danny's lips mashed against Sam's. It didn't have any of the love or romance in their previous kisses, but the effect was what he expected. Sam jerked away, her fist socking Danny in the jaw. Danny was knocked back, slipping off of the edge of the bed and onto the floor. Tucker winced as the smaller teen groaned, gingerly poking at where Sam had punched him.

Sam, meanwhile, had stood up, wiping her lips with the back of her arm, both hands still clenched into fists. “Ew! Ew ew ew, ew ew! When was the last time you washed your mouth! Oh god, what is that taste?”

“Leftover pepperoni pizza.” Tucker supplied, giving Sam a look of amused horror before bending down to help Danny to his feet. Danny was dismayed to find that his chin only went up to Tucker's shoulders. Thinking back over the kiss, he frowned at how much smaller he was compared to both his friends. He knew he was small when he was younger, but he didn't think he was _that_ much smaller than Sam and Tucker.

“Oh, ew! Unkosher! Unkosher!” Sam scrubbed at her lips harder, spitting into the wastebasket before running from the room. Tucker set Danny down on the bed, and Jazz peeked in through the now-open door.

“Is there a reason why Sam's scrubbing her mouth out in the bathroom?” She looked from one teen to the other. Danny opened his mouth to tell her that everything was fine when Tucker interrupted.

“Danny kissed Sam!”

Jazz stifled a shriek, stepping into the room with one hand over her mouth. She stared from Tucker to Danny, horrified. “ _What_?!”

“It wasn't that big a deal.” Danny tried to defend his action. If it worked, Sam would start to remember stuff, and if it didn't...

If it didn't, Sam was going to kill Danny even more dead than he already was.

“It's a _huge_ deal!” Jazz countered, then turned to Tucker. “What kind of kiss was it? Cheek, forehead, hand?”

“Full on the lips.” Tucker shook his head. “He just grabbed her head and mashed his lips on hers.”

“No warning?” Jazz glanced at the doorway with horror, then at Danny with mild disgust. “Why?”

“I was going for the shock value!” Danny retorted, still rubbing at his jaw. “I figured a big shock would, uh, shock her into remembering.”

“So you broke the Azkaban Pact?” Tucker snorted, incredulous.

Jazz blinked. “Wait. Azkaban Pact?”

“After we saw Prisoner of Azkaban, which started the movies down the road of creating a love triangle, me, Danny, and Sam all agreed not to end up feeling romantic feelings that could start a love triangle.” Tucker waved it it along, giving Danny a pointed glare. “But then _someone_ had to go and kiss Sam.”

Danny looked at Jazz, pointing at his jaw. “Does this look like it'll bruise?”

“Well...” Jazz winced, and Danny groaned. Sam stomped past the bedroom, water dripping from her chin.

“Tucker, we're leaving!” Her stomps could be heard as she went down the stairs. Tucker nodded, giving Danny a sympathy pat.

“And there's my cue.” He moved toward the door, and Danny stared at him, betrayed.

“You're going with her?”

Tucker paused at the door, turning around to give Danny a pitying look. “Solidarity, Danny. I love you, but I gotta side with Sam on this one. You broke the Azkaban Pact, our friendship is on hiatus until you get those feelings in order.”

He turned to leave, and Danny stared. “Tucker!”

“No love triangles, Danny! There will be no third wheels between any of us.” Tucker leveled a finger at his best friend. “No third wheels.”

“...so, see you Monday?” Danny called after his best friend.

“Sixth period study hall.” Tucker replied. The front door slammed shut.

Danny turned to Jazz. “Okay, seriously. _Does_ this look like it'll bruise?”

Jazz gave Danny an incredulous stare, complete with head shaking. “How can you not see what you just did?”

“I kissed Sam, how is that–” Danny started, only for Jazz to interrupt.

“No, you ignored the rules of consent. Don't you remember any of Mom's lectures!” Jazz shook her head. “You enter into a relationship following the rules of the–”

“Belmont Report.” Danny finished with her. “I know. Autonomy of participants. Informed and voluntary consent. Support all involved parties when they refuse to participate or have doubts.”

“Which you violated.” Jazz pointed out. “Sam was justified in hitting you. She didn't consent to that kiss, and you ignored her autonomy by coercing her into participating in that kiss.”

“But we're an item–”

“The Belmont Report, Danny.” Jazz repeated. “You coerced her, you didn't get informed consent, you didn't tell her what was going to happen in advance, and you still don't see what you did wrong! I'm going to have to report you to Mom.”

Danny paled. He hadn't realized, hadn't thought to consider the consequences of his actions. He knew that Sam, if it didn't jog her memories, was going to be upset, but he didn't make the connection that it was violating her autonomy. They'd been boyfriend and girlfriend for six months, he hadn't realized that he would've had to ask for consent – which, in retrospect, made a lot of sense. Sam didn't remember that they were in a relationship. “No. No no no nononono! Don't!” Jazz moved back toward the door. Danny leapt at his sister. “Don't tell Mom! Please!”

The two of them fell to the floor, Danny's legs wrapped around Jazz's own, while his arms were clinging to her waist. Her arms flailed as she hit the floor of the hallway, and she tried to kick Danny off. “No! Get off, get off! I don't care if you're fresh out of the hospital, I am not above kicking you back into the emergency room!”

“Kids?” Mom's voice trailed from downstairs. Both siblings froze. “Is everything alright up there?”

Danny and Jazz shared a look, calling back at the same time. “Yes.”

“Are you sure? Sam left in an angry huff and that was a pretty large thump.” Mom's voice sounded like it was getting closer. Jazz pressed her ear to the floor; she heard thumps, getting louder and closer. She gave Danny a panicked look.

“Up the stairs!” She hissed, and Danny disentangled from her legs. She saw the bruise growing on his chin, and she ushered him into his room.

“My chin, I can't explain the bruise Jazz I cannot get double-grounding–” Danny was shaking his head, growing more and more panicked by the second. He was terrible at lying, even after spending a year keeping his ghost powers a secret from his parents.

Jazz ruffled the rug on his floor, flipping one corner over. “Sam wasn't happy when you told her why you ran away, and she hated that you didn't go to her or Tucker's house. You started to go after her but tripped on your rug and hit your face on your trunk. Repeat it back to me.”

“I told Sam why I ran away, she got angry and left. I tried to go after her but I tripped on my rug and hit my chin – I think I bruised it.” Danny rattled off, leaning against Jazz to sell the story. He made a mental note to do something extra nice for his sister sometime in the future, and figure out some way to apologize to Sam.

Mom walked into the room.

~~* * *~~

The weekend was slow to pass. He spent most of it studying, silently wishing for the grounding to end so he could finally go out and patrol. Once, his parents got called out for a ghost, and Danny found himself on a ride-along to a soup kitchen where Lunch Lady had staked her claim, cooking all sorts of food that she deemed vital and healthy for everyone in the area. It hadn't taken very long – only about five minutes, really – and Danny got to see his parents use a new containment device that looked an awful lot like a refurbished cooler. When he'd asked as much, Dad had held it up proudly.

“Yep!” The Fenton Ghost Cooler, such as it was, was an improvement on the thermos. “It can hold more lower class ghosts and at least one Class-A spectral being!”

Danny stared at the bulky cooler, nodded like he understood, and spent the return home quietly listening to his parents talk shop.

On Monday, Danny got up with Jazz, and into the RV (“You mean the GAV!” Dad had proclaimed, buckling into the driver's seat) to be driven to school. Danny glanced over his copy of the class schedule. He had third period free, and was in the fourth period lunch block – not the one Sam and Tucker shared. Third period also had a note saying that he was to meet one of his tutors in the library.

First and second period were a double lesson, english 2 with Lancer. He shuffled into 137 with resignation clear across his face. The rumor mill had already spread his return to the entire student body, and he gave a hesitant wave when he saw Valerie and Mikey were in the same class. Mikey, after a moments' surprise, tentatively waved back; Valerie didn't even acknowledge that he'd done anything.

Danny frowned, going down the aisle toward the empty seat to the left of Mikey. He didn't think Valerie had any reason to ignore him...

Oh. Right. The two of them hadn't gotten to know each other until after that Christmas. Before, Valerie hadn't even noticed he existed. She wasn't even the huntress anymore.

Danny felt lightheaded. Valerie put things into terrifying perspective, how serious and real and grave it all was. So far, he had managed to adjust to everything, explain it away as something temporary that he would have to play along to until everything was put to right. So far, everything had been minimal changes, little things that he could roll with, but Valerie... she was so different, at this point in her life. She wasn't a ghost hunter, didn't have her suit or any of her weapons, didn't even consider Danny Phantom anything less than a danger to be gotten rid of. She wasn't an ally, wasn't even a friend. To her, Danny Fenton... meant nothing.

It hurt. Valerie had been, for just shy of two years, a friend. Someone that almost was. Sam was his girlfriend, was the love of his life, but Valerie...

Valerie was his first. He couldn't just ignore that, ignore her.

“Hey.” He gave her a smile, slipping into the empty desk that sat between her and Mikey. She didn't react. “Valerie.”

She glanced at him from the corner of her eye, then did a double-take when the fact that it was _Danny Fenton_ , the Runaway (and wasn't that just the strangest thing, that Danny became the talk of the school all because everyone thought he'd run away), that was talking to her. “Fenton? Did you need something?”

“Uh, well...” Truth be told, Danny hadn't considered that he needed a conversation started. He was used to talking about random things with her, like stuff from the classes they had. “I wanted to know which, uh, book Lancer had us reading right now? I'm kinda behind, and...”

He trailed off to Valerie's flat stare. She shrugged. “Couldn't you just ask that nerd friend of yours? You know, the one sitting to your right?”

“Well, I could ask Mikey, but he's not you.” Danny glanced back at the red-headed teen, noting that Mikey was, apparently, the same height as him. “No offense.”

Mikey shook his head, a little dazed. “You're good.”

Danny nodded, returning his gaze to Valerie with a smile on the edges of his lips. “So? What book are we reading? And how far into it are we?”

Valerie opened her mouth to answer, but was interrupted by Lancer walking into the room. “Quiet down, please. Now, if we could all give a warm welcome back to Mr. Fenton, today's lesson can get started.”

Danny straightened in his desk, his face hot with blush at getting called out. “Sorry, Mr. Lancer. I just–”

“No need for apologies, Mr. Fenton, as today we are starting in on Shakespeare's _Romeo and Juliet_.” Lancer paused for the class to groan. He gave the class a sardonic smile even as he wheeled the projector out. “Everyone sounds so excited. Fortunately, today we will be watching a movie adaptation of the bard's work. This adaptation was made by acclaimed director Baz Luhrmann, and is considered one of the most accurate at following the stage directions of the screenplay. We will be spending all of today's class time watching this, and will meet again tomorrow to discuss our reactions. If we cannot watch to the end, then the beginning of tomorrow's class time will be spent finishing the movie, followed by the planned discussion.”

The lights dimmed, and the class settled down as the projector began to whir.

~~* * *~~

The library was a quiet reprieve from the busy clamor of the rest of the school. Danny hadn't realized that he'd gotten used to the quiet, but when in the presence of so much noise and people, he'd made a beeline for the library before he'd even realized what he was doing.

The librarian, a middle-aged Latina woman, took one look at Danny before pointing him toward the study area. He nodded, giving her a half-hearted thanks as he walked over to the tables. One of the people sitting there, a bored-looking blonde girl with a round-shaped face, beckoned him over.

Danny slid into the seat across from her with a nervous smile. “Starr, right? Are you my–”

“Yes.” Starr pulled out a series of papers, mostly covered in diagrams. “I'm the one who's giving up her study hall to teach you biology, so you better do great on your exam.”

“Uh.” Danny said, surprised at the brusqueness.

“Principal Ishiyama told me that you're a C student, barely, in a family of very smart people.” Starr laid the diagrams in a line on the table, one after the other. “This means that you have very hard expectations laid on you, but you're clearly having the time of your life limboing under them. Well, I am here to put a stop to that.” She finished laying out the diagrams, giving Danny a hard stare as she clasped her hands together. “What you are going to be doing is filling out every single one of these by heart. There will not be a word key. Blank answers will lose you points. Incorrect answers will lose you points. You are going to learn every inch of the human body and get nothing less than a B+ on your exam.”

“...there's a points system for all this?” Danny couldn't make heads or tails of at least half of the diagrams laid out.

“There's a points system in the exam.” Starr gestured at the first diagram, a drawing of the human body with ten blank lines to fill in, arrows connecting the lines to various parts of the body. “We're starting here, to get a sense of the basics. If you get more than two wrong, we make a note of it and move on. When you can't fill out anything, we'll stop.”

Danny blinked as the diagram was pushed toward him. “Why...”

“Are you doing this?” Starr tapped at the page with a manicured nail. “To ascertain how well you know the subject. Anything you cannot answer will be a focus we will cover during these sessions. To save on paper, complete these in pencil. Once a week, you will go over these and we will re-evaluate. Any questions?”

He looked from the diagrams to Starr, horrified. “...why are you so concerned with making sure I get at least a B+?”

Starr tilted her head, staring at Danny like he was a small child. When she finally responded, her voice was low and the words came out slowly. “Because I will obviously be the valedictorian of our graduating class, making me the first choice for tutoring special cases like yours. When you get exceptional grades in the classes I am tutoring you in, then it reflects on my qualities as a leader, and is good padding on my permanent record.” She reached out, tapping at the diagram. “So. Start here and let's see how far you get before my study hall ends.”

Danny bit back a sigh, pulling a pencil out of his pack and starting in on the diagrams.

~~* * *~~

Sixth period, Danny sat himself down across from Sam and next to Tucker. The goth gave him a dark look before cracking open her textbook. Danny winced. “Look, I'm _really_ sorry about that.”

“Not sorry enough not to have done it in the first place.” Sam muttered from behind her textbook. Tucker snorted, nodding in agreement.

“She's got you there.”

Danny bit back another sigh. “Look, I'm sorry for breaking the Azkaban Pact, but did it jump-start any memories? Any feeling like it's happened before?”

“Unless you mean the Fakeout Makeout?” Sam shook her head. “Nothing.”

“I am so, _so_ sorry about that. I ignored whatever feelings you had on the matter, I didn't give you any warning or explain what it was I wanted to do, and for that I am unbelievably sorry. I don't know how to begin to make it up to you.” Danny was sincere about it all. He really had no clue where to start beyond apologizing. And it was worse, knowing that she didn't remember, likely still wouldn't remember even if he had talked to her and explained everything and she agreed to try.

“Well, hearing you apologize a couple more times would be nice.” Sam peeked out from behind her book. “And hearing you say that you were wrong. That was definitely a good point, don't you think Tucker?”

“I am the Netherlands. Neutral territory.” Tucker held up his hands. “But for the record, I'm for listening to that apology for breaking the Azkaban Pact a couple more times.”

“I am really sorry for breaking the Azkaban Pact. I...” Danny stopped. He'd forgotten about it, forgotten that it had even existed. And from what he remembered of Sam and Tucker before, they had acted like it hadn't existed either. Now that they were all talking about it, Danny found himself recalling that day, and how they'd all come out of the theater shocked that the movies were going to force a love triangle between three friends, who were like themselves. “...I'd forgotten.”

He had. Somewhere along the way, between the fighting and cramming for the next exam, Danny had forgotten the pact he'd made with his friends. And somehow, so had his friends, once. Tucker had been okay, Danny'd thought, with him getting together with Sam. But...

The more Danny thought about it, the more he came to realize how much Tucker had been sidelined in the months leading up to the Disasteriod – and Danny and Sam's first kiss.

“I'm sorry.” He repeated, this time more toward Tucker than Sam. “I didn't...”

Didn't what? Didn't mean to? Of course he didn't; no one meant to do anything hurtful toward their friends. Didn't realize what he was doing? That was obvious – almost far too much so. Danny's codename had been Clueless One, after all.

Tucker stared Danny down, before nodding. “Okay. Apology accepted.”

“Tucker!” Sam hissed, putting down her book. She looked at him, scandalized that he would accept Danny's apology so quickly.

“Sam, look at his face.” Tucker reached out, grabbed at Danny's head and turning it from side to side. Danny flailed at the imbalance, nearly falling off his chair and into the table. “Does this look like a face you can stay mad at?”

“A little bit.”

“Sam.” Tucker raised his eyebrows, gave her a pointed look.

She barely held back a groan. “No.” Sam leveled a hard stare at Danny. “But promise it never happens again.”

“Until the day I die.” Danny replied with a grin. Tucker and Sam both groaned, with Tucker letting go of Danny's head to push him away.

“No. I can't.” Tucker put his head into his arms. “Our friendship is dead. Buried in a pile of puns.”

“Terrible puns.” Sam added with a grin. Danny smiled as well, glad to have his best friends back.

~~* * *~~

Danny's first run-in with Dash (out side of class, as apparently they shared seventh period trigonometry together) was a literal run-in. As in, Danny rounded the corner and ran into Dash.

“Who the–” Dash stopped his insult when he peeled Danny's face off of his chest. The jock lifted Danny up by the scruff of his neck.”Fenton?”

“Hello, Dash.” Danny slumped, hoping that his deadweight would be enough to make Dash put his feet back on the ground. It half-worked, as he was lowered so the tips of his shoes were brushing against the floor. “Am I late for the scheduled whaling?”

“What?” Dash let go of Danny's shirt, and he nearly fell over when he was dropped all five inches. Danny stood as straight as he could, and looked up at Dash; the top of his head barely made it to the jock's chin. “Fenton, you _ran away_. No one's gonna be touching your twinkie little butt for at least a month.”

Danny stared, flabbergasted. “What, really? But I thought you enjoyed whaling on me?”

“And I do.” Dash brushed at Danny's shirt, tugging away at any wrinkles in the collar. “In a perfect world, I'd score touchdowns by day and whale on you all night long. But this isn't a perfect world, so I'll just settle with holding off whaling on you until closer to finals.” He rolled his neck, and Danny winced at the cracking noises his neck made. “There will be so much tension I gotta work out on you, Fenton, just you wait.”

“...can I take a rain check?”

“You're already using it.” Dash poked Danny in the chest, and he was pushed back a step. “So, I hear I'm gonna be sharing tutoring time with your sister, with you.”

“I am?” This was news to Danny. Dash glowered. “I mean, yeah, I am. Jazz is helping me get caught up on things. And Starr too.”

“Who?” Dash squinted, and Danny remembered that, no, Starr wasn't actually a part of the A-listers; she was just the best friend of Paulina, and an A-lister by proximity.

Danny waved a hand. If Dash didn't know who Starr was, then it was best not to make him aware. “No one. You were saying?”

“If I'm gonna be sharing time with you, then you better finish before me.” Dash didn't really threaten, but it certainly felt like one to Danny.

“Wouldn't you want me to finish after you?” Danny, even after all this time, couldn't help the things that came out of his mouth. “You know, to make you look good.”

“Before me, Fenton.” Dash repeated, and he seemed so much larger than Danny in that moment. “If you take more time away from your sister tutoring me, I will whale on you so hard your grandparents are gonna feel it.”

“Heaven forbid I endanger your D average.”

“C-minus.” Dash corrected. “Which, if you endanger it back into a D, then I will whale on you so long and so hard that you'll still be feeling it the next day. Got it?”

“Got it.” Danny nodded. Dash humphed in agreement, picking Danny up at the shoulders and setting him to the side, before continuing on down the hall. Danny stared after Dash, confused. He'd just had a civil conversation with Dash. Or something resembling civil conversation.

What was going on?

~~* * *~~

Mom and Dad intercepted Danny in the parking lot, keeping the teen from the procession of teens loading into the buses. He'd wanted to find Valerie again, to try to restart their friendship, but he couldn't spot her. Instead, he was directed to the GAV and on the road back home. Mom was driving.

Danny had been staring out the window when the GAV jerked to a stop. “Whoa! Hey!”

They'd just gone through an intersection, and this street was an urban area – it didn't have a stoplight – so there was no reason for the sudden stop. He didn't think they'd gotten rear-ended or something (or even that the GAV _could_ get rear-ended) because the airbags hadn't deployed. A ghost attacking wouldn't have caused the GAV to stop – really, Mom would've shifted gears, told Danny to hold on, and driven after the ghost – so then what else...

“The child is not bright.” Danny shrieked, jerking in his seat.

“He is also unaware of his surroundings.” Who was speaking? Where were they speaking from?

“...he's fifteen.” Wait. That voice was...

“Clockwork!” Danny glanced down at the medallion dangling from around his neck. He unbuckled from the seat, feeling his ghost half come to the surface with a flash of light. Floating in the air, his legs melded together into the spectral tail as he glanced around. After over a week without transforming, without using any of his powers, it felt like letting out a deep breath after holding it for too long. “...where are you?”

A clock hand appeared, in the air, spinning in a circle, opening a portal and letting the time ghost – and two Observants – float through. The Observants looked identical, save for the colors of their respective eye. The one to the left had a bright green eye, while the one to the right had a red eye.

“What relevance does his age have toward his observational skills?” Green Eye queried, and Danny didn't have to see Clockwork's face to know that the time ghost's eyes were rolling.

“Danny is fifteen, and therefore a teenager, and therefore young.” Clockwork sassed, shifting into youth. “Youth are notorious for their dubious observational skills. Now, time is short, so begin your questioning.”

“Wait.” Danny held up a hand. “Why are the Observants here? And – what? What is going on? Did you dump me in an alternate timeline to teach me a lesson? And why de-age me, I'd finally hit that growth spurt!”

“This is your original timeline, Danny, unaltered by me.” Clockwork aged into an elderly person. “And you already know the answer to your current situation.”

“Are you not going to introduce us?” Red Eye scolded, and Clockwork shifted into a teenager, looking a little older than Danny. The time ghost waved the staff at the Observants.

“Danny, allow me to introduce your interrogators, Iris,” Green Eye bowed slightly, “and Orion.” Red Eye glared at Clockwork.

“Impertinence, time ghost.”

“Brevity and levity.” Clockwork replied.

Red Eye– Orion made a motion that could have been nodding. “Of course. Ghost boy–”

“Danny.” Clockwork corrected, with a very put upon tone of voice.

“Danny.” Iris started. “What can you tell us about this Disasteriod?”

“...why do you want to know?” Danny had had everyone tell him it wasn't real, tell him that it didn't make sense. Why now, with the Observants, would they start believing him?

“Because it is part of a sequence of events that we are unable to observe.” Orion replied. Danny got the feeling that this guy wasn't the one who liked–

“Have you guys been watching me this whole time?!” Danny was shocked and a little disturbed. If they really had been watching him, then that meant– no. No, best not to think about those kinds of things.

“Only the relevant things.” Iris stiffly responded. “human resting, hygiene, and bodily functions can only hold ones interest for such a small amount of time. But your actions, and interactions with others, _that_ we make no waste in observing.”

“Tick tock.” Clockwork reminded the Observants, running and hand along his staff.

“This is taking too long.” Orion languished. Their eye moved to stare at Danny. “The events of what you perceive to be the past two years, all of which occurred after you incurred the wrath of the Writer, are events in your existence we cannot observe.”

“As we are the two who are to observe your existence, such a gap in our knowledge cannot be.” Iris continued. “Therefore, we will be, what is the human phrase?”

“Dropping in.” Clockwork answered, glancing over the interior of the GAV.

Iris bobbed their eyeball in that nodding motion. “We will be dropping in regularly to ask questions about all the events you have experienced, starting with what happened after you were turned into a book.”

“I wasn't turned into a book!” Danny retorted, and the Observants shared a look.

“He believes it is untrue.” Iris stated.

“Potentially relevant.” Orion added. “The fact has been archived. Does it alter anything?”

“His knowledge base, perhaps.” Iris conceded. “Belief that those two years were real will aid our efforts. The memories will linger until acceptance. Clockwork?”

“There are many paths.” Clockwork answered. “Who am I to apply determinism to a single one?”

“Impudent.” Orion chided. “You are impudent, much like the boy.”

“The boy is feeling insulted that he is being referred to like he isn't two feet away.” Danny added, acid dripping from his every word.

“Introductions, it seems, are all that can be done for this stop.” Clockwork spun his staff, creating a portal. “Orion, Iris, it is time we return. Danny, we will be returning many more times in the future. Oh, and don't forget to buckle up.”

Danny watched as the Observants left, leaving him alone with Clockwork. The time ghost stared at the teenager through the face of a middle-aged person. Danny stared back, expecting some answers. “Well?”

“You're going to have to specify, Danny.” Clockwork sighed, fiddling with his staff.

“Why am I fourteen again? Why doesn't anyone remember after that Christmas? What is going on?” Those three questions, Danny felt, were the most important ones to have answered.

“You're fifteen, actually.” Clockwork answered. “Your birthday passed nearly three weeks ago. Congratulations.”

“That doesn't answer my question.” It sounded more like nitpicking, and even more like stalling.

“You are fifteen because that is your age.” Clockwork replied. “No one remembers the same events as you because only you experienced them. And you already know the answer to the third question. Now, sit down and buckle up. The motion of this vehicle has been paused, as you felt.”

“What do you mean, only I experienced the past two years?” Danny questioned, even as he floated down back into his seat. The seatbelt clicked into place around his waist. “Did you send them away just because they annoyed you?”

Clockwork floated toward his portal. “As I said, you already know the answer. And much as I would prefer that to be the case, it is not. I can stop time, but not indefinitely.” He vanished into the portal, before popping his head back through. “You may want to go back to human.”

“Go back to– oh! Human!” Danny bopped his wrist against his head, reverting back to human in a flash of light. He barely had time to settle into the seat when time started moving again. The GAV continued down the street, and Danny glanced down to see the medallion wasn't hanging from his neck anymore.

He considered Clockwork's words. The time ghost had said that no one but Danny had experienced those two years, and confirmed that this was his own timeline. He also said that Danny already knew the answer. The Observants also believed that GhostWriter had turned Danny into a book, but they believed that the two years he'd lived were real.

It was possible that they were all telling the truth, that Danny really hadn't actually experienced anything real since cheesing off GhostWriter. Except that it wasn't the truth. It couldn't be.

~~* * *~~

Danny was in the middle of study hall when his ghost sense went off. He hiccuped, a cool mist escaping his mouth and a shiver running down his spine, and was halfway out the room before the chill feeling vanished from between his teeth.

Flashing the hall pass to the hall monitor, Danny slipped into the bathroom, checking the stalls for feet – and people – before transforming. Wherever the ghost was, it was bound to find hi–

“There you are, pup.”

Danny dropped to avoid the net, both hands glowing a bright green. Skulker flew through the hallways, his wings touching the edges of the lockers. Blades extended from both arms, and Danny threw up a shield. Ectoplasm sparked and fizzled, and both opponents were thrown back. Danny went through the floor and into the faculty offices. Marlene glanced up from her filing, and Danny gave her a small wave as he floated back up. “Don't mind me, just passing through!”

The last he saw of her, she was picking up the phone. Great. Now his parents were on their way. He had to take care of Skulker before they arrived, or there would be some issues when he wasn't in study hall like he was supposed to be. The hunter's mechanical face grinned when Danny reappeared in the hallway. “Hello, pup. You've become more valuable since we last fought.”

“Because I don't have chest hair anymore?” Danny raised an eyebrow. “Low standards, dude.”

“Because you're the first ghost to be trapped by the Writer for so long!” Skulker leveled a fist at Danny, the hand firing at him. The fingers spread out, breaking apart and into a huge net, sparking with electricity. Danny tried to phase through it, but he couldn't. A ghost-proof net, he realized, made by a ghost to hunt other ghosts.

He hit the ground, the fingertips that made up the edges of the net drilling into the floor and pinning him there. Danny struggled, trying to get up and away, before realizing that there was another way out.

He phased down through the floor, this time appearing in Principal Ishiyama's office. He was about to fly back up, when something occurred to him. Waving a finger at Ishiyama, Danny said, “When you tell this story, my name's Danny Phantom, not Inviso-Bi–”

Skulker barreled into him, and the two of them flew out of the building. “Whelp, I'll have you–”

“Yeah, yeah, my pelt over your fireplace.” Danny mimed Skulker talking with one hand while pulling out the thermos with the other. “Never been there, never doing that. Let's move on already.”

Skulker charged. Danny popped the cap off the thermos, pointing the end away from him. Skulker tried to reverse, tried to escape his suit, but it only made his capture all the faster. The suit, now empty, fell to the ground while Skulker was sucked into the thermos.

Danny popped the cap back on, tossed the thermos in the air, and floated back into the school, humming the tune of his favorite Dumpty Humpty song. The entire exchange couldn't have taken more than five minutes, yet he still felt like it had taken far too long. He didn't use his ice powers, mostly because Danny had all but given up on regaining use of them – whatever had been done had reverted him to back before they developed.

The fight itself was refreshing, the first time since Clockwork had appeared that Danny really got to use his ghost powers. He felt energetic, and so much more relaxed, now that he'd gotten the chance to go ghost and actually _use_ his powers. The fighting itself though... Danny hadn't missed it. Those past three weeks had been some of the calmest he'd had since... he couldn't remember when. He had free time, could finally keep up with his homework (even with the tutoring to help him), and now he was getting full nights of actual, restful sleep.

Danny returned to the bathroom, reverting back to human, and walked back to class with a smile on the edges of his lips. The return to study hall happened without fanfare, he just handed the hall pass back to the teacher and returned to the table with his friends. He gave Sam and Tucker a look that said he'd explain it all later.

After ten minutes, Danny's parents peeked into the room, but didn't approach him – he did, however, notice, and gave them an embarrassed wave with a confused look. A small part of him felt bad for taking away their business, but they could clean up Skulker's suit and his weapons easily enough (later, he learned that Skulker had set up the suit to self-destruct, and his parents had nothing to show for coming to Casper except data from the crater the suit left behind). Maybe next time he could let the his parents get the ghost.

~~* * *~~

Time passed, and eventually things started to go back to normal. Danny found himself slow to react every time his ghost sense went off, opting to let his parents take care of it most of the time. His grades improved, and Starr was pleased when Danny managed to get an A- on his biology exam. Word was beginning to spread that the ghost hero, whose name was Danny Phantom, had returned to town. Mom and Dad were excited at his return, and tried to figure out who it was that he was haunting.

But the best part of it all, was that Danny was finally, _finally_ , ungrounded.

So the first thing he did was go out with his friends to the arcade, playing through several rounds of Crash Nebula. It was all so very normal, up until one of the arcade games came to life.

“Who do you think it is?” Tucker asked, hiding behind the prize counter with Sam and Danny.

The half-ghost shrugged. “Technus, maybe?”

As he spoke, the tiny bin of plastic lizards glowed and turned real. They crawled out and all around the three of them. “Or, y'know, Desiree.”

“Well, it looks like Desiree.” Sam added, peering out from over the counter. One of the formerly-plastic lizards crawled over her boot, and she swatted it away. “So I'd say that you're not wrong there.”

Danny sighed, transformed, and flew out. He was hoping to run into her sooner or later – that way he could figure out if whatever had happened was a wish she'd granted.”Hey!”

“The young ghost boy.” Desiree greeted, a glimmer of interest in her eyes. “Are you here to wish me away in that thermos of yours?”

“I wanna know if you granted any wishes about a month ago, because I distinctly remember being sixteen, and then suddenly I'm fourteen again.” Danny pulled out the thermos, tossing it up and down in the air. “Which, not gonna thermos you just yet.”

“One month ago?” Desiree hummed. “I grant so many wishes, it's hard to keep track of them all. But in answer to your question, what you have experienced is not of my making. I don't have that kind of ability. The Writer, I believe, is the one you should be asking. Word does travel of how he made you into a book.” Desiree clicked her tongue. “I can see it though. You are young, the leather binding would be extraordinarily supple. The tome must have been exquisite to behold.”

“Okay, ew.” Danny uncapped the thermos. “I wish you would go into the thermos.”

“Brat.” She chided, even as she was sucked in. As soon as the cap was put on, the wishes came undone.

Danny returned to his friends, a frown on his face. So it wasn't Clockwork, and Desiree could have been lying about it being beyond her skill, but he was inclined to believe her. She wouldn't lie like that, not when she enjoyed rubbing her wishes in the faces of their recipients. Which left a list that was growing shorter and shorter.

~~* * *~~

Late that night, after his parents had gone off to bed, Danny snuck down into the lab. He flushed the thermos, and stood before the doors to the portal. The right light above it was off. Danny pressed his thumb onto the pad, and the light flashed a bright red. The door buzzed as it slid open, letting Danny stare into the swirling green mass.

He pulled his hand away, setting the portal doors to remain open. He transformed and flew into the portal, coming out the other side.

The Ghost Zone was exactly as he remembered it being, complete with the purple doors and faint sight of the lands and territories. Danny flew toward them, hoping to find the Far Frozen quick enough that he could talk with Frostbite and be back home with enough time to catch up on the sleep he was losing.

The Far Frozen wasn't there. In fact, none of the landmarks in that area seemed to exist. He didn't see the river, or the gorge, or even Dora's kingdom. It was like none of those places had ever existed.

Panicked, he tried to find the ancient Greece part, but that too was missing. Danny didn't know where Hotep-Ra's Egyptian land was, but he suspected that it too was missing.

He flew toward Clockwork's tower, but there was a green expanse where it should have been. Pariah's castle and Vlad's old portal, those Danny found easily enough. Poindexter's recreation of Casper High Danny found as well. But of the other places, there was nothing.

Danny knew Clockwork's tower existed, because he'd been there twice before, back during the C.A.T.s and again when Vlad had infected Sam and Tucker with ecto-acne. But all other times... it was like the place had never existed. And maybe it didn't, maybe it only appeared when Clockwork wanted it to be found.

It all made Danny wonder why the time ghost wouldn't want to be found, now of all times.

He returned home, with still more questions than answers. If he wanted any, then Danny was going to have to go to the one person who had been there since the start of all this.

~~* * *~~

“I wanted to ask you guys something.”

It was dinnertime, almost a week after Danny's trip into the Ghost Zone. He'd tried to think of some way out of it, but there was nothing else.

“What is it, sweetie?” Mom set the casserole down on the table, cutting into it with the spatula.

“I had an idea of what I could do over the Summer.” Danny began, taking the slice offered to him. “Since I managed to avoid summer school.”

Mom frowned, glancing at Dad. “You know that you have to attend that fitness trip in July, right?”

“I know. I just...” Danny fumbled with the words. “Back when I was in the hospital, Vlad offered to get me a tutor. For school.”

“And you'd like to take him up on that offer?” Mom glanced at Dad, who shrugged.

“Well, he mentioned how it was the same person who tutored him when _he_ was in the hospital, so I think whoever the tutor is, they're pretty old.” Danny set the bait, waiting for his parents to bite. “I was... considering taking up his offer to contact this tutor. And, I mean, since the person's probably pretty old, it would be easier for everyone if I just...”

“Oh.” Mom sat down, the frown gone. Dad glanced at Mom in concern, but she kept staring at Danny. “You want to go to Vlad's.”

Dad's face went blank. Jazz winced, quietly setting down her fork. Danny cringed. “Just for, like, one month. If Vlad's still in contact with his old tutor, then they must still be in Wisconsin. And if they're as old as you guys, then whoever it is must be settled down. I wouldn't want to have them, um, impose by coming here.” His parents faces were still stony. “And–and you guys could drive me up there! Make sure I get there safely, and everything. I could even call you every night – well, maybe not _every_ night, more like every other night – so. Can I call Vlad up?”

~~* * *~~

Mom and Dad weren't happy with it. They weren't when they called Vlad to confirm this offer. They weren't when they found that the tutor was still in Wisconsin, with a family of her own. But they agreed that it would help. With a plan in place, April ended and May went by far too fast.

The ride to Wisconsin was carried in almost complete silence. Sam and Tucker weren't happy with him, and even less with _who_ he was going to be staying with. Danny agreed with them – he hated that he was going to Vlad. Hated that he was so powerless. Hated that he had no answers.

But he had to go to Vlad. The older half-ghost had been there since the beginning, and this entire thing was probably part of his plan, but Danny didn't have a choice. Vlad had answers, ones that either he was going to tell Danny or that the teen was going to dig up.

Eventually, the castle could be seen in the distance. Danny felt like part of some cosmic joke, that he would return to Wisconsin under the same rainy weather that he left it. Up close, the castle looked aged, the once-smooth bricks stained a ragged and pitted purple-gray from time, and painted dull and dark from the rain.

Vlad was standing in the alcove of his doorway, his face hidden in the shadow of a massive black umbrella. For a moment, Danny thought he saw a glint of shining red eyes. In Vlad's free hand was another umbrella, just as huge, but colored a bright red. He walked to the GAV as it rolled to a stop at the foot of the castle's steps. “Madeleine, hello!”

“Hello, Vlad.” Mom gave Vlad a hesitant smile. Dad appeared around the front of the GAV, a white umbrella open and in hand. Mom joined Dad under the umbrella.

“Vladdie!” Vlad's own smile became strained as he was pulled into a hug by Dad, their umbrellas clashing against each other.

“Jack.” Vlad's tone lacked any of the enthusiasm it had for Mom, and Danny glared from inside the GAV. The older half-ghost pulled away, straightened his coat, and held up the red umbrella. “I brought an umbrella, but if you already have your own...”

“Actually, I think Danny could use it.” Mom gestured at where Danny was still inside the GAV, bag slung over his shoulder. The side door was opened, and Vlad spun the umbrella around, holding it out for Danny to take hold of the handle. The handle was curved wood, with what looked like a thorn carved into the end.

“I must admit, I was surprised to get your call.” Vlad gestured to the door, and led the way up the steps. “I had offered to call my old tutor months ago, you see, and took Daniel's lack of response as a negative. Had I known beforehand, I could have called Kendra and facilitated a temporary move to Amity Park. As it stands, Daniel and I will be moving to a penthouse in Madison.”

“Really?” Jack glanced at his old friend. “I don't remember any of our old graduating class staying in Madison.”

“Kendra isn't in our graduating class.” Vlad waved a hand, stopping outside the front doors. Danny's parents stepped up, standing beside the door to the right, while Vlad stood before the door to the left. Two steps below them, Danny stood beneath his red umbrella. “She was an intern at the hospital I stayed in. Non-surgical, of course. Her resident was part of the team overseeing my case. She was a great help in keeping me enrolled, and without her, I would not have been in the same graduating class as you, Madeleine.”

“I wondered...” Mom trailed off, and Dad glanced at the darkened sky.

“Hows about we go inside, V-man. The rain's coming down pretty hard.”

Vlad hummed, like he'd forgotten, and pushed open the doors. “Ah, yes. Come in, come in. I'm afraid you cannot stay for dinner, though. I didn't have the service staff stock the kitchens this week, as I intended a small meal for myself and Daniel. We're to leave for Madison in the morning, you see.”

“So soon?” Mom's voice echoed through the castle, following the clacking of their shoes. They were the only ones in the dark foyer, the only light coming in from the windows. It seemed so vast, and incredibly lonely, that Danny felt himself shiver – but from the cold or something else he didn't know. Vlad nodded.

“Daniel has already lost so much time, I thought it best that we expedite things. You can have your goodbyes with Daniel if you like, but if you prefer returning to Amity Park tomorrow then I would highly suggest you leave as soon as possible, would that I'd rather you stay for drinks.”

“I see.” Mom didn't look ready to leave, and neither did Dad. Danny found himself distracted by Vlad's ease at sending Mom away so quickly after arriving. Mom took hold of his face by the jawline, gently making sure that his eyes were on her. “Stay safe, and _please_ call me and your father at least every night.”

“Every other night.” Danny felt his eyes start to water, and his voice was thickening. “Every night would be weird.”

“C'mon, guys.” Dad was sounding morose, like he was trying not to cry. “Let's keep it together. These four weeks–” Dad choked up, blinking at watery eyes, “–will be over before we know it.”

Danny hugged his parents, pulled them close and held on tight. He wanted that moment to never end. He didn't know why, but he held tight to Mom and Dad like this was going to be the last time he would ever see them.

If things went right, then technically, it was. It would be the last time he hugged them as the small fourteen– no, fifteen year old that he used to be. These last two months had been nostalgic, but they had to come to an end.

He pulled away from the hug, said his goodbyes, couldn't keep the tears from his eyes. Mom and Dad were the same, wiping away the tears and pulling back together for the long drive home.

Everyone stepped back outside, although this time Danny was standing in front of Vlad, his face hidden from his parents in the shadow of the red umbrella. Mom and Dad walked away, their backs to Danny, although he could see Dad glance back from underneath the white umbrella. The GAV, as well as his parents, seemed so small, so far away in that moment.

He felt Vlad's hand rest on his shoulder, and couldn't tell if the squeeze the older man gave was meant to be comforting or possessive.

They watched the GAV drive off into the rainy gloom. The sounds of the engine eventually gave way to the pitter-patter of the rain, and Vlad gave Danny another squeeze. “Come. We should return inside before we catch our death of cold.”

Inside, Danny was reminded of how big, how dark, how lonely the castle felt. He gave Vlad a sidelong glance, wondering how much of the older half-ghost's issues could be solved if he moved somewhere smaller, and surrounded with more people. The thought brought to mind something else, something different.

Danny had voluntarily gone to Vlad. This moment, this month he was to spend alone with Vlad, it could be what Vlad had planned. Kidnap Danny, collude with a number of ghosts – GhostWriter and Walker, to start – and then set Danny free in this almost-right world. Vlad wouldn't have to do anything but wait for Danny to come to him.

“So was this your plan?” If it was, and it was starting to look like it, then this was the part where Vlad gloated his victory. “Turn everything backwards with that story about GhostWriter turning me into a book? And then when I can't figure things out or cope with the loss of my ice core, let me to come to you, so you could train me and turn me against my Dad?”

“While that would sound like something I did, the circumstances of your situation is not my doing.” Vlad hummed, taking Danny's umbrella. “I _do_ have more to my life than merely killing that bumbling oaf you call a father.”

“Could've fooled me.” Danny retorted, eyes glowing a harsh green glare. “Why are you still lying? Isn't this when you start gloating about your victory, and how all of this was according to your evil plan?”

Vlad raised an eyebrow. “But this is not my evil plan.”

Danny scowled. “Why are you lying?! I _know_ you did all this–”

“And what, pray tell, is 'this'?” Vlad waved an arm, stepping forward to loom over Danny. “Enlighten me.”

“Coming back to Earth. Making everyone forget the past two years. De-aging me – de-aging _everyone_.” Danny listed everything off on his fingers. “Cutting me off from my ice core – which, _how_ did you do that, that shouldn't be _possible_ –”

“Why are you still believing all this?” Vlad countered. “You have had _two months_ , Daniel. Two months with which to accept what the truth.”

“And what is the truth?” Danny's hands balled into fists, shaking from anger. “That lie you keep spout, about me turning into a book for four months? Or the lie that I ran away to Dear Unkie Vlad's and got lost in the woods? Or the lie that you turned time back–”

“The truth that you provoked the GhostWriter–”

“– _that you turned time back_ –”

“–and he punished you by turning you into a book!”

“–just to relive those years you got your butt kicked by me and my Dad!” Danny finished, raising his voice to speak over Vlad's. His fists were glowing green and his hair bled the black away into white. The black jumpsuit appeared in patches over his skin, growing and spreading like he was becoming submerged in it. “Because you can't stand it when you lose, and you figured that you could just hit reset and then you could try again. Kill Dad. Marry Mom. Apprentice me.” Danny snarled. “World domination and five hundred billion dollars is just the icing on the cake.”

“World domination?” Vlad repeated, the worlds rolling across his tongue like he was tasting them. “Half a trillion dollars? When did I become a half-baked Bond Villain in your eyes?”

“If I had to pick one moment, it'd have to be when you _literally held the world hostage_ for those exact things!” Danny snarled, edging past irritated and into furious. “Do you just – it's like you go out of your way to forget every time you lose. Like that time you tried to clone me. _Again._ Because apparently me destroying your Colorado lodge wasn't enough for you to learn _not_ to do that, you fruitloop!”

Vlad didn't respond, didn't even move. Danny waited for him to respond – likely by transforming into his own ghost half – but... nothing. Vlad didn't even blink.

Danny frowned, giving the older man a weird look. Why wasn't Vlad doing anything?

He glanced from Vlad to his still-glowing hand, and raised an eyebrow. If Vlad wasn't going to move...

“Don't antagonize the man, Danny.”

The teen yelped, slipping backwards. The ectoblast in his hand went off, hitting the ceiling. Danny glanced down at where the time medallion bounced off his chest. “Seriously?”

Clockwork's portal appeared, and he floated out with the green-eyed Observant – Iris, he recalled. Clockwork appeared as a young child. “The man is frozen in time. Even for you it would be mean-spirited.”

Danny gaped. “...did you just make a pun?”

“I make a great many puns.” Clockwork replied, growing larger and older, into an elderly person. “You just are not timely enough to clock in to them.”

“That...” Danny floated away from Vlad, wiping a hand over his face. “You've been making puns. Time puns. This entire... time.”

“It's a source of great amusement to me.” Clockwork answered. “But I'm afraid my part in this conversation is completed. I believe you remember Iris?”

“Wait.” Danny held up a hand. Clockwork, in response, tapped at his staff. The teen rolled his eyes, turning his attention to Iris. “Is this about that thing you said, about dropping in to hear me out?”

“Of course.” Iris demurred, the red eye bobbing in that facsimile of a nod.

“But that was over a month ago!” Danny sputtered.

Iris was unfazed. “We have been busy. Your acclimation required that we observe. Even now I must be here alone. Orion is conferring our observations to the rest of the Observants. Now, if you could start with the events immediately following the Writer's attack on you? Any details that you remember of his narration would be immensely fruitful, as well.”

“How about I just recite it all back to you?” Danny countered, resigned. It was unlikely that he could talk his way out of doing this. Moreover... “I remember the entire thing. It's annoying, actually.”

“Then please, begin.” Iris clasped their hands, the red eye staring at Danny expectantly.

~~* * *~~

The story of the Fright Before Christmas – as GhostWriter had dubbed it – had taken all the time Clockwork could allow, and the two ghosts had to leave just as Danny concluded with his declaration that everyone had stopped rhyming.

Iris had left first through the portal, and then Clockwork had directed Danny into his previous position, ectoblasts and all. Although he looked angry, Danny couldn't bring himself to the same level of anger that Vlad had worked him into. He felt calmer, not yet on the verge of blasting Plasmius into next week.

The time medallion vanished, and Vlad was moving again. “I never cloned you. Why would I want to clone you–”

“Because if you couldn't have the real me, then at least you could have a perfect fake me calling you 'Daddy'.” That was harsh, Danny considered, since it was more than those defective _things_ that didn't even look like him; it was Dani. It was her life that Vlad threw away, tried to end.

All for the sake of that 'perfect' clone.

“But you're not getting that.” The anger returned, brimming with fury. “You're _never_ getting that perfect little family, Vlad, and I will do everything in my power to make sure of that.”

“Will you?” Vlad stepped forward, his eyes glowing a vibrant red. “I suppose I should be flattered you care about my unhappiness so much.”

“I don't.” Danny replied. “I care about my family's happiness. Which doesn't involve you in the picture.”

“And what a wonderful picture that must be.” Vlad countered. “A father that killed his son, just as he killed his college roommate. A daughter that wants to be as distanced from a possible from her family. A son that's failing out of high school, that ran away to that billionaire uncle – oh, right, that billionaire isn't in the picture. Let's amend that last part: the son that ran away.”

“You _kidnapped me_.” Danny countered. “You _de-aged everyone_ , rebuilt this castle–”

“My ectofiltrator wasn't replaced in time, you should be familiar–”

“–vanished entire _sections_ of the Ghost Zone like they never existed–”

“Did you ever consider maybe they _didn't_ exist?”

“–and now, you're trying to deny everything like you can just erase the past–”

“DANIEL!” Vlad shouted, the name echoing through the castle in the wake of Danny closing his mouth. Danny was breathing hard, his fists blazing with ectoblasts, floating in the air in his ghost form. Vlad, in contrast, was calm, human, and still. “Excellent. Now, if we can have a _civilized_ conversation, then perhaps we can both survive this month. How about you ask a question, and let me answer. I will not lie.”

Danny was still breathing hard, but the ectoblasts in his fists dissipated. He dropped down to the floor, reverting to human. He hated this, having to play on Vlad's terms. “Fine. First question: what did you do to my ice core?”

“Nothing.” Vlad blinked away his red eyes. “There is no such thing as an ice core.”

“What did you do to my _ghost_ core, then?” Danny sassed, crossing his arms.

“Nothing.” Vlad repeated. “Ghost cores do not exist, as such.” Vlad hummed. “Although there are theories as to the core ghost substance, such as it pertains to the forms ghosts take. Your mother–”

“You're stalling. Answer the question.” Danny glared.

“I did. Ghost cores, such as you perceive them, do not exist.”

“Where did the Far Frozen go?”

“I have no idea what that is.”

“Where is the Infi-Map?”

“What is that?”

“You don't know?”

“Would I ask if I did?”

“Stalling. Next question: how did you come back from space?”

“I didn't. I have never been off the planet.”

Danny's eyes narrowed. “How did you de-age me?”

“I did not de-age you.” Vlad answered, looking bored.

“Why did you come up with the lie about GhostWriter turning me into a book?”

“I did not come up with that. It isn't a lie.” Vlad's eyes narrowed, staring through Danny. “Why do you believe it is a lie?”

“Because it is.” Danny's glare deepened.

“That is not a reason.” Vlad glanced at the clock. “You can better explain over dinner. The waitstaff have been given paid vacation until we return, so it is just you and me.” He gave Danny a considering glance. “Are you competent with a knife?”

“Really.” Danny was too incredulous to make it sound like a question. “You put your staff on paid leave? You _have_ a staff?”

“We're going to Madison tomorrow.” Vlad glibly replied, walking across the foyer. Danny picked up his bag, following.

“Wait, that's for real?” Danny blinked, surprised. “That tutor's a real person?”

“Her name is Kendra DuMorne, and she is very much real.” Vlad walked up the stairs, through the doorway and into the hallway. “She spent a decade as a doctor before retiring to teach. She is a professor at University of Wisconsin now. She can help you through your physics and health credits – your school principal has agreed that Kendra's qualifications as a university professor can count both as credit toward your high school graduation and toward your college education.”

“Really?” Danny was doubtful that Vlad was merely setting all that up out of the kindness of his heart. Mostly because, Vlad had no heart. “You seriously – we're seriously going to Madison?”

“Yes.”

“We're not staying in your castle.”

“I do have other motivations beyond your parents.” Vlad commented, stopping outside a door. “Here is your room for the night. I would not suggest unpacking.”

Danny stared at the door, then stared at Vlad pointedly. “Is it a trap?”

“Nonsense, my boy.” When Danny didn't move, Vlad rolled his eyes, opening the door and walking inside. When nothing happened – and, Danny peeked around the corner, when he saw that it was an ordinary bedroom – Danny followed inside. He set his bags down beside the bed.

“So if I'm helping make dinner, mind telling me what we're making?”

“Honey smoked chicken.” Vlad replied, leading the way back into the hallway. “Which has been in the making since this morning. I have a personal smoker,” Vlad added, when Danny gave him a weird look. “And I _do_ know how to cook. I wasn't always a billionaire, much less a millionaire.”

“So you _weren't_ always a stuck-up rich creep?” Danny put a hand over his heart. “Be still my half-dead heart.”

Vlad raised an eyebrow. “Is your humor always so morbid?”

“Are you always such a humanitarian?”

“I'll have you know the only conservative part of me is my fiscal conservativeness.” Vlad clucked his tongue, leading the way back down to the foyer. “Now, perhaps you can explain to me why you do not believe that you were turned into a book?”

“Because it's a lie.” Danny gave Vlad an irritated look.

Vlad hummed. “I already said that is not a reason. Do you find it difficult to put into words? Or is it merely that you do not _want_ to answer, because I am asking that question?”

Danny growled, “I don't _want_ it to be true.”

“A better response, but still insufficient. Why don't you want it to be true?” They turned around the corner, entering another hallway.

“Why do you want to know this so bad?” Danny asked.

“Why are you avoiding answering the question?” Vlad replied.

“That's not an answer.” Danny tried to keep himself calm – he couldn't just beat Vlad up and head home, like all the other times the man had pissed him off.

“Maybe I'm just a concerned uncle.” Vlad commented, turning another corner. “Or maybe I merely want you to move on. I know better than anyone how lingering in the past can consume you.”

“ 'Do as I say, not as I do', much?” Danny retorted, and Vlad scoffed.

“I spent the better part of five years in the hospital.” Vlad opened a door, gesturing for Danny to enter. He peeked inside, then entered when he saw it actually was the kitchen. “At first because of the ecto-acne. But then, after it cleared up, I was committed. Cotard's Syndrome, they said. I was depressive, in the years following the proto-portal. They prescribed antidepressants, at first. When that didn't work, they provided electroconvulsive therapy.”

“Electroshock therapy?” Danny sidled away from Vlad, giving the older half-ghost a wary side-eye.

“It's not nearly like the movies proclaim.” Vlad replied, walking toward what Danny thought was a pantry, and opening it. Smoke puffed out, and the billionaire pulled out a small chicken and shut the door. “It's more akin to a static shock, but directed to specific areas of the brain. The intended effect is like a system reboot. Restore the neural pathways to what they were before the subject believed themselves to be deceased, and overload the pathways that are believed to be the cause of why the subject believes they are dead.

“But not me.” Vlad set the chicken down on a pan. “I resisted it, violently for a ghost. It drew the attention of the Guys in White. They came, presented all the necessary paperwork for a patient transfer, and I spent the next three years in their _delightful_ care, getting poked and prodded. I finally escaped in '92, and vowed several things. First, that I would ensure that the Guys in White could _never_ do what they did to me either to myself or anyone else ever again. Given how much of a joke they've become, I would consider that a success.

“Second, I would rebuild my life greater and grander. I created my own business, Masters Inc., and then performed a series of stunning coups, becoming owner to a number of large and burgeoning businesses. Mastersoft, for one. I became a billionaire in part so the Guys in White could never hope to touch me.” Vlad opened the pantry, pulling out a clove of garlic and several spices. “Third, and most important, is that I would live a life better than Jack Fenton. This is the other reason I became a billionaire. I wanted to find your mother – at the time I did not know that she _was_ your mother – and marry her. We were old friends, it wasn't a stretch to think that I would find her after more than a decade away, we would fall in love, and then it would be me and her in this castle, together.”

“But then, what, you saw that Mom married Dad, and decided that what, Dad should die?” Danny nearly dodged the garlic clove when it was tossed at him, but he managed to catch it.

“Well, your mother had already had both you and your sister, so I couldn't try to deny it.” Vlad pulled out two knives – one huge, while the other was so small. He set the smaller one down on the counter, sliding it toward Danny. “Instead there was anger. How _dare_ that oaf marry her? How _dare_ he be happy, after stealing away over a decade of my life? How _dare_ that man be respected by his peers, after what he did to me?”

Danny edged further away from Vlad, now that the man had a knife in his hands. “Um.”

Vlad was seething, hacking away at the chicken. He grabbed at a chicken leg with his free hand and ripped it off. Danny took another step away. “Do you... need a moment?”

He would gladly take any reason to get away from Vlad. The older man took a deep breath, held it in, and let it out through his nose. “I apologize for that display–”

“But not the flirting with my mom,” Danny muttered.

“ – but we have gotten off the topic.” Vlad finished, pointedly not rising to Danny's remark. “Why do you not want the truth to be the truth?”

Danny considered not answering. He rolled the garlic clove between his fingers, turning the skin intangible. “Because then everything from the past two years means nothing. All my victories, all the things I experienced, the allies I made, it all means nothing. Dora's kingdom doesn't exist. Dani isn't real. Pandora. Amorpho. The whole thing with Hotep-Ra – which, I'm actually pretty okay with that not being real.” He took a breath, started to chop at the garlic clove. “But then there's other things. Valerie isn't– isn't a ghost hunter anymore. My parents never knew, and all those times they came to accept and love that I was part-ghost... none of that happened. I never saved the world, never grew into my ghost core. Never–”

Danny stopped, focused on chopping the garlic clove.

_I never got together with Sam..._

The garlic was chopped into slices, and Danny gathered them together, chopping it into smaller pieces.

_I never got to know Valerie..._

His life, everything he knew... almost none of it had been real. He only imagined the feelings he had for Valerie, the feelings Sam had for him.

If he accepted it as real, then the last two years of his life never happened. None of it was real, none of the strength he'd gotten, the allies he made, the acceptance he gained. None of that mattered. None of it meant _anything_.

So it had to be real.

“I was happy.” Danny finally said. “I had finally reached a point where everything was good. Everyone knew, and they accepted it. I was a hero, and... yeah, the fans were tough, but I was working around that. I was finally on top of my schoolwork, all set to graduate. The ghosts had let up in their attacks, ever since I got the entire Ghost Zone to help save Earth. I had... I had a girlfriend. I was at a good point in my life. If I had to accept that it wasn't real... then what am I left with? I'm behind on schoolwork worse than I was before, the ghosts are attacking just as much as they were in the past, the public barely know whether they should love me or hate me. My parents want to rip me apart molecule by molecule – and they don't even know that it's _me_ they want to do that to. And I don't have a– and I'm single.”

“Oh, of course!” Vlad sassed. “Being single is _such_ a travesty, how _ever_ can you live without the person you love?”

“Hey, I'm trying to _fix_ things!” Danny slammed the knife down on the counter. “Things that _you_ caused, by the way!”

“Blaming another for your failings is something I wholeheartedly understand, I assure you.” Vlad set his own knife down, sliding it away from him as he turned to face Danny. “But in this instance your own actions are to blame for this, not mine. I have done nothing but–”

“Try to kill my dad to marry my mom?”

“I have done _nothing_ ,” Vlad repeated, slamming a fist on the counter. Danny jumped at the cracking noise it made. “ _Nothing_ to deserve this kind of treatment, least of all from you. This is reality, Daniel, and it is ugly. It is ugly and it is unkind, and all you can do is try not to die – but not in our cases. You are me, we both have one foot in the grave already, leaving us with a cursed half life. All we can hope to do is reclaim what vestiges of our lives that we have left. _That_ , Daniel, is reality!”

Danny shook his head, pushing away from the counter. “You know what? I don't feel hungry anymore. Enjoy dinner by yourself.”

“Daniel, wait.” Vlad sighed, the anger deflating out of him. “We are going to be together for the next month. It's better, perhaps, that we get this all out now. At least this way, we can be something resembling civil toward each other.”

“Can we?” Danny really doubted that it was possible.

“I know, it sounds impossible to me as well.” Vlad breathed out. “But... we cannot be at each others' throats for this entire month.”

Danny considered that, and thought about how exhausting spending the entire month with Vlad, at the man's throat. When the man had been mayor of Amity Park, Danny had been consoled with the fact that Vlad wasn't visiting FentonWorks for dinner every night. Now, however, with a solid month of being in close contact with Vlad... “Fine.”

~~* * *~~

Dinner was a quiet affair.

They ate in the dining room, in one small corner of the huge table. The castle was so much more silent than Danny remembered it being, and when he commented on it, Vlad spoke of the lack of staff. They didn't have much to speak about, after that, and lapsed into silence.

Afterward, they each went their separate way: Vlad to his bedroom, and Danny to his own.

Danny waited for the longest hour before slipping out of his room, invisible and intangible, and into the lab. He didn't know what he was looking for, or what he expected to find – Vlad, for all that he lost to Danny, rarely left evidence of his plans lying around.

The lab looked as pristine as ever, with the portal bathing it in a soft green glow. It also seemed smaller, if that were possible. On a shelf to the side, Danny spotted the Crown of Fire, and beside it the Ring of Rage. He walked over to the computer, tapping at the keyboard to wake it up. Vlad didn't keep it password protected, so Danny could easily dig through the billionaire's files. He found files on himself, on all sorts of ghosts, in folders labeling them as allies, neutral parties, or enemies. Under allies there was the expected: Skulker, the ectopi, even the animals from the Colorado lodge. Then there was the unexpected: Fright Knight, for one, and Valerie – although her file listed her as a lost asset.

There was nothing on the clones, and just as much nothing on ectoranium. There wasn't even anything about Vortex, the Infi-Map – there wasn't even a hologram of Mom!

It was possible that he just deleted the files, erased the hologram. It was still possible.

He glanced over at the Ring and the Crown. Vlad had both – and they gave the holder a large amount of power. Could they have the power to... erase... sections of the Ghost Zone?

Who could he ask to confirm it? Most of his go-tos weren't there anymore – and most of the rest were his enemy. He stared at the portal, contemplating which ghost he could ask. Skulker was out, because the hunter was in Vlad's employ. He couldn't trust Vlad to tell the truth. He couldn't find Clockwork. The Far Frozen apparently didn't exist. Neither did Dora's kingdom, or even Ancient Greece. So who did that leave? Poindexter wasn't nearly old enough to know. So.

There was Walker, and GhostWriter. They were fairly neutral toward Danny, but...

He glanced at the clock. _12:06_ blinked back at him.

This portal was different from the one Vlad had set up in Amity Park. It was in the same area as the Fenton portal, which made it close to Walker's prison. It wouldn't take long, going there and returning. A hour, maybe, to go and talk and return.

Danny transformed, flying through the portal and toward Walker's prison.

He found it easily, slowing down as he approached the front gates. Two guards, identical as the rest under Walker's employ, stopped him. He waved. “Hey, I'm here to talk to Walker?”

“Visiting hours are up.” Guard One answered.

“Come back in twenty years.” Guard Two continued.

“Twenty years?” Danny repeated, his voice small. “Just to talk to Walker?”

“The warden is a busy ghost.” Guard One replied.

So. Not Walker then. “What about visiting hours for inmates?”

The two guards glanced at each other. Danny figured that this was a first for them – it wasn't likely that the inmates had very many visitors.

Guard One gestured for Danny to follow, unlocking the gate. Another guard was on the other side, giving Danny a once-over. “New inmate?”

“Visitor.” Guard One corrected. “Here to see–”

“GhostWriter.” Danny supplied. At their blank look, he specified. “The Writer.”

Both guards nodded, and Danny followed the new guard inside, Guard One returned to his place beside Guard Two, and the gates swung shut. Danny floated behind the new guard – Guard Three (and he was going to number them until he lost count) – and entered a blank room, with only a simple table and two chairs. The walls on either side of the room had mirrors, and Danny realized that they weren't mirrors, but tinted windows. He sat at one of the chairs, staring at his reflection from one mirror to the other. Which one had Walker behind it, and which had Bullet?

Eventually the door on the opposite side opened, and Walker stepped through it. “Boy.”

“And here I thought you were busy.” Danny couldn't stop that bit of sass from coming out. Walker didn't look happy – granted, he _never_ looked happy – and the teen made a note to keep the sass to a minimum. He had gotten his sentence absolved, and wasn't ready to be arrested again. “Should I be flattered that you think so highly of me?”

“You should be flattered my guards let you come near this place.” Walker sat across from Danny. “Boy, what kinda stupid do you gotta be to come back here?”

Danny shrugged. “I wanted to talk to GhostWriter.”

“He's in solitary.” Walker answered. “No visitors.”

“Not even the kid he turned into a book?” It was odd, how easily the lie came out. “I was hoping for closure.”

“Closure ain't a thing.” Walker steeped his fingers. “Heard you asked for me first.”

“I wanted to know...” Danny squirmed. “The Ring and the Crown hold a lot of power.”

Walker's eyes narrowed. “Careful of what you say in the Zone, boy. Names got power here.”

“But do they have power?” Danny wanted to know, _needed_ to know.

Walker tilted his head. “What's got you asking, boy?”

“Can they... erase parts of the Zone?” Danny leaned forward. “Make entire places vanish like they never existed?”

Walker stared at Danny. “You still got ink for brains, boy?”

Danny shook his head, offended. “No!”

“You do.” Walker snorted. “You still believe in all that Disasteriod nonsense. The Writer turned you back but left you ink for brains.”

“He didn't!” Danny denied. “Look, if I can't see him, then at least answer my question. Can they make entire places vanish?”

Walker stared at Danny. “I could slap you with unlawful insubordination, 200 years in here.”

“They why haven't you?”

Walker growled. “They bind this place together. Use to be this was a place same as Earth. Then he fell, and it fell apart with him. Places here don't vanish, boy. The time ghost's place is the only exception.”

“I figured that part out.”

“...you got ten minutes with the Writer.” Walker stood. “Lord hoping he can turn that ink between your ears back into brains.”

“Stop saying that!” Danny called out after him, but the warden was already gone. Danny was left alone, again.

He was going to be talking to GhostWriter. What would he ask the ghost? What _could_ he ask the ghost? Walker had told him that the Ring and Crown couldn't erase anywhere from the Ghost Zone. So...

GhostWriter was the only one who could tell Danny the truth. Likely the only one who _would_ tell Danny the truth. He had to ask these questions.

GhostWriter was walked into the room. He took one look at Danny and sniffed disdainfully. “So. You've finally come to apologize.”

“Wrong.” Danny waiting until the ghost was placed in the opposite seat, cuffed to the table. “Did you turn me into a book at Christmas?”

“Of course.”

Danny blinked. _What?_ “What?”

“I turned you into a book.”

“No you didn't.”

GhostWriter frowned. “I assure you, I did.”

“And I assure you, you didn't.”

GhostWriter's frown remained. “I above anyone else would know whether or not I turned you into a book. And I most assuredly did turn you into a book.”

That... that couldn't be right. “Why?”

“I _had_ to, of course.” GhostWriter studied the handcuffs around his wrists. “If I was to take control of your life story, I had to turn you into a book. A story cannot be written from nothing.”

“So when the poem ended...” Danny felt a cold pit of lead in his stomach.

“The story did not.” GhostWriter hummed, finally giving Danny his attention. He seemed intent on Danny's jawline. “I did tell you.”

“You said the story would end when the lesson was learned.” Danny waved his arms around. “I learned my lesson, so the story ended.”

“A slip of the syntax, I'm afraid.” GhostWriter tilted his head and leaned to the left, trying to see Danny's face from the side. “I was short on time, you see, and busy getting arrested.”

He made a pointed look at the handcuffs. Danny scoffed. “But – the oranges.”

“Yes, that happened – although not as you believe. The warden of this prison came after me to make an arrest. The poem was tied into the lesson about Christmas, such as I narrated it. It just so happened that I was able to narrate that end to you so you could bring it to The End.”

Danny jerked at the familiarity of the words, and GhostWriter smirked. The teen scowled. “Don't _do_ that!”

“It seems I've left a mark on you.” GhostWriter leaned forward. “I am curious, how much do you remember of your time as a book?”

“Everything.” Danny snarled. “And it was all a lie?”

“Fascinating.” GhostWriter murmured. “What you experienced in the time I was not in control were events of your own making. You imagined it all up. Didn't it seem odd, how time passed but you never seemed to really age? How you seemed to learn and then relearn life lessons – ones that by all rights, you should have learned already?”

Danny felt nauseated, and tried not to let it show. “How...”

“I was in possession of your book.” GhostWriter hummed. “I must say, despite the way the romantic plot dragged on, and the plot holes, you were a halfway decent read. Not perfect, by any means, but that one girl, the ghost huntress?”

“Valerie.” Danny grit his teeth.

“Her plot was excellently done. Shame how you dropped it.” GhostWriter sighed. “I would have loved to read what happened next.”

“So these past four months...”

“You have been a book.”

“And the two years I remember happening...”

“Were only events that happened inside the book.” GhostWriter tilted his head. “Are you having an existential crisis because of the punishment I gave you?”

“We're done.” Danny stood, and Bullet came in from the door behind GhostWriter. He said nothing, only hefting GhostWriter out of the chair and back through the door. Several seconds after that door closed, the one behind Danny opened. A guard gestured for him to follow, and Danny couldn't tell if it was Guard Three or not.

The guard directed him back to the gate, where Guard Two escorted him halfway to the Fenton Portal. Danny could see Vlad's portal in the distance, but Guard Two wouldn't listen when Danny tried to explain. He thanked Guard Two, who gave Danny this bland look before leaving.

Danny felt sick. He felt sick, and terrified, and confused. He wanted to sleep.

“Danny Fenton! _What_ a surprise, finding you here!”

Danny shivered. _Oh, no..._

Spectra and Bertrand circled around Danny, sharp grins on their mouths. Danny tried to move away, but then Bertrand was in his face. “Why are you leaving? We just got here?”

“I don't want to talk to you.” Danny tried to shove Bertrand away, but the ghost slipped back into circling the teen with Spectra.

Spectra did a mocking frown. “Don't you? We could taste your unease from halfway across the Zone! Clearly you want to talk about _something_.”

“This isn't a good time.”

Clawed hands curled over his shoulders. Spectra's grin could be felt through her words. “Is this about your little stint as a book? Did something happen to remind you of it?”

“None of your business.” Danny jerked out of her grip. Behind him, Spectra shared a look with Bertrand. The small shapeshifter shrugged.

“He's already changed enough. Perhaps he doesn't _want_ your help.”

“A shame.” Spectra floated after Danny. “Especially when his taste has changed so much. Used to be, he was a Mexican chocolate, smooth and spicy with a biting aftertaste. Now he's nothing more than soured milk.”

“No, no, he _was_ nothing more than soured milk. Can't you taste it? He's changed.” Bertrand gave Danny a sad look. Danny didn't believe the ghost really felt sad for him.

Spectra nodded, nostrils flaring as she breathed in. “Oh, of course! Now he's curdling into a sharp and bitter cheese. Where _ever_ has our little half-ghost gone?”

“Walker's prison, perhaps?”

Spectra's eyes glittered. “The Writer. Nothing else has ever changed Danny's scent.”

“Stop following me!” Danny whirled around. “Just leave me alone!”

“Oh dear.” Spectra frowned, then grinned a smile too full of teeth. “The Writer made you believe the truth. Before, you thought that this wasn't real, but then you went and visited the Writer. And now you know that this is real. But you don't want it to be.”

Bertrand joined in, and the two of them started circling Danny again. “It doesn't feel real to you, does it?”

Danny glared at them, hating how much they made sense. It _didn't_ feel real.

“Perhaps it feels like a dream.” Spectra purred. “Does it feel like a dream, Danny?”

It did. It really, really did.

“So maybe it _is_ a dream.” Bertrand mused.

It felt so much like a dream.

“But if it's a dream...” Spectra began.

“Then how do you wake up from one?” Bertrand finished.

“Pain, of course.” Spectra replied.

“But that can only work so well.” Bertrand rebuked. “And it's so unreliable.”

Spectra frowned. “Then you die.”

Bertrand nodded. “Just like Humpty Dumpty.”

“You could have a great fall.” Spectra continued.

“ _Everyone_ wakes up before they hit the ground.” Bertrand nodded.

“It's an excellent plan.” Spectra mused. “But there's only one problem.”

“And what is that?” Bertrand frowned.

“Well, Danny doesn't want our help.” Spectra joined Bertrand in frowning. “And how can we help him if he doesn't want it?”

“That _is_ a problem...” Bertrand mused. “I suppose we'll just have to leave, then.”

“Dreadful action.” Spectra agreed. “But he will want our help one day.”

“One day.” Bertrand agreed.

They left. Danny felt exhausted on top of everything. He didn't want to believe them, but they said a lot of things that sounded like the truth. If this was real, then why didn't it feel real? Everything either felt too real or not real enough. Why couldn't he just go back to the way things were?

The return through Vlad's portal was quiet. Vlad's lab, however, was not.

“Danny!” Sam and Tucker's twin cries had Danny blink, peering around the Specter Speeder to see the worried faces of his best friends. The speeder's weapons were pointed at Vlad, who had a shield set up.

“Guys?” Danny glanced from the speeder to Vlad, and back again. “...what are you doing?”

“Rescuing you.” Sam answered, not looking away from where she was aiming at Vlad. Tucker, however, did look at Danny.

“Dude, you look awful.” He was jabbed in the ribs by Sam. He gave her a betrayed look. “Well, it's _true_! I haven't seen eye bags that heavy since that weekend we marathoned all the femalien movies.”

“Guys.” Danny stepped between Vlad and the speeder. “I don't need rescued.”

“Yeah, you do.” Tucker replied. “Going to Vlad? _Willingly_? Something had to be up.”

“So, we get Jazz to let us into your house, and snuck off with the Specter Speeder.” Sam charged the weapons to fire.

“Whoa, hey!” Danny held up his hands, moving to stand in front of Vlad as he reverted to human. “You snuck off with the Specter Speeder?”

“... _that's_ the part you have a problem with?” Vlad spoke up from behind his shield. Danny ignored him.

“Return the speeder. Go home. I'm fine, you guys don't need to rescue me.” Danny was tired, and wanted to sleep. He had a lot to think about, and a road trip to think it all over. “We talked about this. And, hey, turns out the tutor is a real person. Go figure.”

The charge in the weapons dissipated, and they shifted to point around Danny. Sam raised an eyebrow. “You sure about this? We could still blast his butt into next week, bring you home.”

“I'm sure.” Danny nodded. Sam didn't look like she agreed with this – and neither did Tucker, for that matter – but both his best friends backed the Specter Speeder through the portal, leaving to return home. Danny watched them leave, and turned to Vlad. “No, I don't want to talk about it. Yes, I want to sleep. No, I don't want to talk about it in the morning.”

Vlad remained silent, walking Danny back to his room.

He felt sticky, sweat making his pajamas cling to his skin. He peeled the shirt off, but left his pants on – even if he wanted to take it off, he was still a guest at Vlad's place. It felt weird enough having to sleep in the castle, and Danny already couldn't shower in the locker rooms with other people.

Sleep that night was uneasy.

~~* * *~~

They woke early – the clocks all read 8:00 A.M. – and Danny manged to peel himself out of bed for a simple cereal breakfast. Vlad had stared Danny in the eye as he pulled out a box of Froot Loops. Danny didn't actually say anything, merely raised a judgmental eyebrow. Together, they ate on the counter of the kitchen.

“We've got a three hour drive to Madison, and I told Kendra we would meet her for lunch.” Vlad said, between bites. Danny nodded, taking another spoonful of cereal.

With breakfast done, Vlad led the way to his garage, where the two of them put their bags into the backseat of a Jetta (which Danny was surprised at, as he guessed Vlad would have driven in a Ferrari). The road trip got on the way, leaving Danny with his thoughts as Vlad put in the audiobook to the sixth Harry Potter book.

It was real. It was all real. He really spent four months of his life trapped as a book. Which meant...

None of it was real. He never spent two years battling all sorts of ghosts, meeting all sorts of allies and enemies.

Dani never existed. Neither did the other clones, or the ecto-dejecto.

Valerie wasn't a ghost huntress anymore. She never got to know him, and he never got to know her.

The Far Frozen wasn't real. The Infi-Map didn't exist, or Frostbite. He didn't even have an ice core. Butterfingers, not even ghost cores were real.

The Disasteroid just... never happened. And Sam–

Sam.

She wasn't his girlfriend. Was never going to be his girlfriend, now that he remembered the Azkaban Pact. Her feelings for him... he made them up.

He made it all up. Pandora's box. Nocturne. Vortex. Vlad's stint as mayor. The Reality Gauntlet.

His parents.

They didn't know. And he still wasn't certain that they would still love him, still consider him a part of the family. A half-remembered conversation flitted through his mind, a late-night talk with Dad about the time he proposed to Mom.

_“Sometimes the different is good, and sometimes it's bad, but it all turns out good, in the end.”_

This certainly was different, and Danny wasn't sure if any of it could really be called good. And even then, what was the end? In a year, when he looked back at how everything changed? When Christmas came around again, and everything was another kind of different?

When he finally adjusted to real life again?

For that matter, what was real life to him? Long nights patrolling the town, going over homework; two best friends covering for him, with the help of his sister; parents that don't know, and actively hunt him down to study him; failing grades that wouldn't leave his GPA anywhere close to what would get him into colleges with good space programs. Was that real life to him? It didn't feel real.

Spectra's words from the night before nagged at the back of his mind. A dream. If this _was_ all a dream, then it explained... a lot. Everything, maybe. It wouldn't take much to Nocturne to knock him out, get one of those dream helmets on him...

And what was this, then? This wasn't that perfect dream world, which made it seem harder to figure out that it was Nocturne. He knew everything was wrong, had gotten shocked and emotional and upset, and was still there. Getting hurt wasn't going to be enough.

Danny looked out the window, at the railing of the bridge they were driving over. A great fall, Spectra had said. Exactly like waking up from a dream – he wouldn't even hit the ground.

He looked away, at the road ahead. That was a chance, and a pretty darn big one at that, that Spectra was wrong, that she was lying. He couldn't chance that.

* * *

UW-Madison was in the middle of the actual city – a sprawling metropolis that left Danny gaping. Vlad noticed, and chuckled. “The city isn't nearly as huge as it seems. Mostly it's the lakes that make it seem so large.”

“Lakes?” Danny turned away from the window. “As in plural?”

“Three of them.” Vlad hummed. “At least, those three are the ones surrounding the actual university. Mendota and Monona are two of the larger ones, and are considered part of the city as well. Wingra is a smaller lake, but it's still pretty large.”

“ _Three_ lakes?” Danny shook his head. “How many lakes are in this state?”

“A lot.” Vlad nodded, the car turning a corner. “Over fifteen thousand, if memory serves.”

“Seriously?”

Vlad nodded. “I am serious. Of course, less than half are actually named. Ah! Here we are.” The Jetta pulled into the parking lot of a tall building. “Pendleton apartment building. I own the property, and occasionally spend time here.”

“In the penthouse?” Danny rolled his eyes, pulling his bags out of the backseat.

“Naturally.” Vlad chuckled. “It also happens to be where Kendra lives with her family.”

“She has kids?” Danny figured that it was the only reason why someone wouldn't be able to go to Amity Park. He worried about having to play babysitter – he just wasn't good with anyone younger than him.

“One, but she's much older than you.” Vlad led the way into the elevator, hitting the button for the penthouse. “You won't be seeing Kendra's family very much, however. Her spouse is often busy, and the daughter is currently attending the University.”

The elevator dinged, and a small, heavyset woman stepped into the elevator. She took one look at Vlad before her face lit up. “Vlad Masters!”

“Kendra DuMorne!” Vlad stepped forward, giving her a hug. Kendra pulled him tight, practically lifting him in the air, before pulling away.

“Look at you – billionaire of the year _again_!” She grabbed at Vlad's chin, turning his head from side to side. “And your skin is as clear as ever. What _do_ you do.”

“Much as I would love to talk skin care, Kendra, allow me to introduce Daniel Fenton.” Vlad gestured at Danny, who was pulled into a hug, then given a once-over.

“He's got some acne, and looks a little small for his age.” Kendra gave him a smile, patting him on the shoulder. “Don't worry about that. In a year, you're gonna shoot up like a bean sprout.”

“Uh, thanks?” Danny wasn't sure how to react to that. Vlad had always seemed so dour and gloomy. It was... strange, to see the billionaire was friends with such a lively person.

~~* * *~~

That evening, Danny had his first phone call home. The other line rang once, twice, thrice.

“Hello?” Mom's voice sounded tinny over the connection, and Danny couldn't stop the grin.

“Mom?” He heard her gasp.

“Danny.” She sounded so relieved, and sad. “Hold on, I'll get your dad and sister on the lines.”

“Danny?” Jazz picked up the line.

“Danny!” And there was Dad.

“Hey!” Danny leaned against the wall, still smiling. “I miss you guys already.”

“And we miss you.” Mom replied.

“How are things going over in Madison?” Dad asked, and Danny chuckled.

“You wouldn't believe it, but the tutor is a doctor.” Danny confided. “And she lives, like, two floors below the penthouse Vlad took me to.”

“Well, I hope that doesn't mean you're going to spend the entire time in the apartment building.” Mom's frown could be heard over the line.

“I wouldn't think so.” Danny started wandering the hallway. “She's still working at the nearby hospital, and I'm gonna be going to there as a candy striper, I think.”

“Well, make sure Vladdie takes you on a tour of our old places.” Dad chimed in. “We're gonna be taking Jazzy-pants over on a tour next year.”

“What?” Jazz spoke up. “When was this decided?”

Dad and Jazz clicked off the line, leaving Danny alone with Mom. “So, you and Dad got home alright?”

“We did.” Mom answered. “We got back a couple hours ago. The rain didn't follow us this time, though.”

“I know what you mean.” Danny chuckled. “The rain stopped up here sometime last night. Today was cloudy, but I did see hints of sunlight.”

“Ah, yes.” Mom laughed. “That's about the best you can hope for. It's been almost two decades, but I haven't forgotten that Wisconsin weather.”

“Yeah.” Danny nodded. The conversation stalled, but he didn't want to end the conversation just yet. What else could he talk about? “Uh, so I helped Vlad make honey smoked chicken yesterday.”

“Oh?” Mom sounded interested. “Was it any good?”

“It was pretty good.” Danny shrugged. “Not as good as the food back home.”

Mom let out a burst of laughter. “No, I imagine it wouldn't.”

The laughter died out, and they were left on the line, nothing else left to talk about. Danny couldn't mention his visit to the Ghost Zone, his talk with Walker and GhostWriter, Spectra, or Sam and Tucker's rescue attempt. “So... I should probably get going.”

“Yeah.” Mom sounded sad. “You've got a big day tomorrow.”

“Yeah.” Danny paced the hallway. “Miss you.”

“Miss you too.”

The line clicked dead.

~~* * *~~

The wind wasn't whistling. Granted, the buildings in that area weren't nearly as tall as the skyscrapers near Amity Park, but still.

Danny sat on his windowsill, looking at the sheer drop to the pavement. Ten stories didn't seem quite so high when he regularly flew above the clouds, and been in space. It also wasn't nearly high enough for him to fall from, and safely go intangible if it didn't wake him up.

He moved back inside, shutting the window and returning to bed. That could wait, for now.

~~* * *~~

The month went by slowly. Danny found his days filled with learning all sorts of things. Jazz's tutoring in trigonometry helped with the physics, while Starr's diagrams about human anatomy proved to be just as much of a help with the health class. Every four days, Danny was given a new exam – either diagrams to label or energy outputs to calculate – and by the end of it all he came away with a pair of A-minuses. They would have been higher, but Danny had taken to writing down everything that had happened when he was a book. He was going to hand it over the next time Clockwork dropped by, so he could go back to his life.

The drive back to Vlad's castle was filled with a nervous sort of energy. Danny had spent the entirety of the last week preparing for the return home. This time was a different sort of homecoming. Danny had been home before, but it hadn't felt like he was returning home. Now, though, now it was going to feel like going home. But first...

Danny had almost two days until his parents arrived to pick him up. It was now or never.

He transformed, flew to the tallest part of the castle – the tower to the southeast – and landed on the roof. Danny faced the spire, staring at the yellow tiles with his back to the wind. He reverted back to human, and let gravity take over.

He had five seconds from when the soles of his sneakers lost contact with the roof to when he would hit the ground.

Five seconds to wake up. The wind flapped at his hair, flattened his shirt against his back. Wind resistance would slow his descent, slow his speed to terminal velocity. The wind was so loud he couldn't hear anything.

Four seconds to wake up. His ears popped from the changes in air pressure, and the wind felt like a deep chill on his skin.

Three seconds to wake up. He thought he heard something. His name? Danny turned his head to see where it came from.

Two seconds. He closed his eyes.

One second. Danny felt arms wrap around him, pulling him close. His skin buzzed with the electric chill of ectoplasm. His body jerked.

Zero.

Danny opened his eyes. Took a deep breath.

He was in Vlad's arms, flying back up, away from the ground. They curved, gently landing on the front steps of the castle. Vlad didn't let go, instead holding Danny tight. “My god, little badger, you scared ten years off my life!”

Danny tried to pull away, but the older man wouldn't let go. “Hey! I had a plan, it was all going to work out–”

“Did you?” Vlad snarled, gripping Danny by the shoulders. Red eyes met blue, and Vlad reverted back to human. “And what was this plan of yours? Suicide?”

“Spectra said–” Danny began, but was frog marched up the steps and back inside the castle.

“Spectra?” Vlad growled. “That parasite? _Why_ on earth would you listen to anything she has to say!”

“Because she said this could all be a dream!” Danny jerked out of Vlad's grip, standing defiant to the older man. “That first night here I went back to Walker's prison, okay! I went there because I couldn't trust you to tell me the truth.”

“And that's where you ran into that parasite and that troglodyte she calls an assistant?”

“I talked to Walker about the Ring and the Crown. He said they couldn't erase parts of the Ghost Zone.” Danny retorted. “Then I talked to GhostWriter.”

Vlad stepped back, looking like he'd been slapped. “You spoke to the... Daniel, is that was this all has been about?”

“I told you I didn't believe any of this was real.” Danny's hands clenched into fists. “And if anyone could answer my questions, it was him.”

“And that's where you learned...”

“Yeah.” Danny answered. “That's where I learned that you were actually telling the truth for once. That's where I learned that all of this was _real_. That everything I experienced over the past two years – they didn't happen! Dani doesn't exist. The Far Frozen doesn't exist. I never dated Valerie, and she never became a ghost huntress again. The Disasteriod never existed – Sam... Sam might not actually have feelings for me. I might have made all that up.”

His eyes burned with tears. He hated this, hated that he couldn't go to his parents for this. He could tell Sam and Tucker this, could unload on Jazz, but none of them could ever compare with how much it hurt that he had to lie to Mom and Dad. He grew up hearing his parents say how he could go to them with anything, but not with this.

“So maybe I was desperate.” Danny continued. “Maybe I wanted some way to know for sure. Some way to know that those two years I spent _fighting_ for recognition, for a normal life, meant something. Meant more than just some... _thing_ imagined up by me.”

“And now?” Vlad brought Danny into an adjoining room, a study. The older man grabbed at a nearby chair, settling Danny into it. He gave Danny a reassuring pat on the shoulder, before pushing the teen. The chair got up on two legs, falling backwards.

Danny flailed, but went down with the chair. He yelped as he rolled onto the floor, looking up at Vlad, betrayed. “Why?”

“The sensation of falling is caused by an imbalance in the inner ear. It's a sudden change in the body's equilibrium that sets off the sympathetic nervous system.” Vlad explained walking over and setting the chair upright. “It causes a sudden increase in the hearts BPM from a sudden influx of adrenaline. That adrenaline is the shock the body feels. It also is what wakes a person up. Does your heart feel like its pounding in your chest?”

“So what if it does?” Danny could feel it, drumming a beat against his ribcage. He felt jittery, as well.

Vlad held out a hand, and Danny reluctantly accepted it. He remained standing, while Vlad held onto the chair. “That is the sympathetic nervous system at work. In about a minute, with nothing to make your body continue to produce adrenaline, the parasympathetic nervous system will kick in. You will feel tired, and exhausted, and like you want to rest. But that is irrelevant, because you are under the effects of the sympathetic nervous system. It means that you are very obviously awake, and this is not a dream.”

“I got that.”

“Do you?” Vlad asked. “Do you understand? Because these are words I have heard before, Daniel. Do you understand that you are awake?”

“Yes.”

“Yes, _what_?”

“Yes, I understand that I'm awake.” Danny rolled his eyes.

“Take this seriously.” Vlad reprimanded. “I don't want to have to explain to your mother how I knew you were suicidal–”

“I'm not suicidal!” Danny stared at Vlad, offended.

Vlad shrugged. “Could have fooled me.”

Danny scoffed. “I'm _not_!”

“Are you depressed?”

“No!”

“Are you sure?”

“ _Yes_!”

“Then why are you acting like your life doesn't matter?” Vlad demanded. “Why are you so determined to escape reality?”

“Why do you care?”

“Because, Daniel, it is just you and me.” Vlad hissed. “I spent twenty years as the only half-ghost in existence. Then you came along, and now it's just us. I have no intentions of losing you. You are alive, and you are here. Act like it.”

~~* * *~~

The remaining hours until Mom and Dad's arrival were spent alternating between tense silence and long arguments about Danny's state of mind. He'd just managed to convince Vlad that he was fine, that he wasn't going to be trying anything like that again, when there was a knocking on the front doors.

Danny greeted his parents with a smile and long, lingering hugs. Mom thanked Vlad for all the help, while Dad helped Danny carry his bags back to the car. Danny smiled and thanked Vlad for everything, and soon enough they were on the road.

There wasn't much for them to talk about, having spent most of the past month talking about everything. Danny stared out the window, at the lakes they drove past.

This was the start of a new future, and Danny had no clue what it held. Half the ghosts he knew didn't exist, so the most he could expect of any of them were Skulker's annual attacks. He couldn't find Clockwork, could only maintain that he wouldn't become evil, let his ghost half corrupt him. He'd promised that much.

He had to tell Mom and Dad. They knew before, but he couldn't base either of his parents' reactions on those times. The Reality Gauntlet, the Disasteriod... neither of those things happened. Dad had once hinted that the both of them would still love him, if they knew. Perhaps they already knew, like Jazz did. He had no way of knowing for certain, unless he spoke up.

Four simple words. I am Danny Phantom.

He just had to say those four words. _I am Danny Phantom_. So simple. So incredibly, incredibly simple.

“Mom, Dad.” His voice felt shaky – why was he nervous? It wasn't like he hadn't done this before, hadn't _tried_ to say all this before. “There's something you should know.”

“Hmm?” Mom glanced back from the passenger-side seat. “What is it?”

“The accident, with the portal?” He just had to say it. Four words, four simple, simple, words. I am Danny Phantom. “It... wasn't just a minor electric shock. I...”

_I am Danny Phantom._

He took a deep breath. “Earlier that day I brought Sam and Tucker down to see it. Sam took some photos with her camera, she has them in her scrapbook, but... she mentioned how neat it was, what you guys were trying to do. A portal to a different dimension. What kinds of awesome things must be on the other side.”

“Danny, it's alright that you showed them the portal.” Mom reached back, patting him on the knee.

“That's – that's not all I wanted to tell you.” Danny stared out the window, at the marshland passing them by. “Later I went back down, put on a jumpsuit – the white one in storage, with Dad's face on the chest. It's the only one that fit me.

“I took the picture off, and... I stepped inside the portal. It was dark, and the floor was uneven, so... I slipped and caught myself on the side. I must've knocked something loose, or into place, but...” Danny shuddered, taking another deep breath. “The portal turned on. With me right there, in the middle of it all.”

Mom was frowning, turning to stare at Dad. “It would explain why the instruments recognize an ectoplasmic signature – his body would be saturated with it.”

“We did suspect something happened.” Dad agreed, and Danny shook his head.

“No, that's – well, that's kinda true.” He exhaled. “The ectoplasm from the blast... I got knocked out. And knocked back. I woke up on the floor of the lab, and... the suit was black. Like, the colors had inverted. I looked at my reflection in the computer and my hair was white. My eyes glowed green.”

Mom mouthed the description, glancing back at Danny in concern. “Danny, what are you–”

“I am Danny Phantom.” His knees shook, even after the words came out. “I wanted to tell you guys back when you completed the ghost finder, but things got delayed, and... then I kept putting it off.” Dad's words sank in, and Danny blinked. “Wait, you suspected?”

“We figured that you had something to do with the portal turning on, but nothing like that.” Mom's voice was quiet, and she leaned back to sit upright in the passenger-side seat.

“I... I'm sorry.” Danny looked toward the front of the GAV, at Dad's squared shoulders and Mom's auburn hair. “I was figuring things out, but then there was Walker, and Wulf, and I was framed–”

“You were framed?” Mom let out a dry laugh. “You attacked the mayor.”

“He was possessed.” This wasn't the direction he wanted the conversation to go down. “Those ghosts – they were all goons for this stronger ghost. In the Ghost Zone he runs a prison, and they're all the guards. I think he might've been one of the Guys in White when he was alive, and back then... he wanted me to serve my sentence. Ten thousand years.”

Mom nodded, while Dad finally spoke up. “So the million bounty...”

Danny winced. He had to keep Vlad's secret, even if this took his half of the stalemate off the table. “That's... complicated.”

“It's a long drive.” Dad replied.

“It's... I pissed off the Wisconsin Ghost, at the college reunion.” Dad jerked at the mention, while Mom glanced back.

“The GAV? That was you operating it?”

“You possessed me?” Dad's voice was uncomfortably quiet. “And your spring formal too, right? There's all kinds of blank spots in my memory. I don't remember agreeing.”

“That was...” Danny squirmed. “I didn't mean to do it. I just... my powers were still pretty unstable back then, and you were in a bad mood, that I just...” He shrugged, gave Dad a grimaced attempt at a smile. “It seemed easier, really. And everything turned out alright, didn't it?”

“And the reunion?” Mom stared Danny down. “You possessed your father then.”

“I... the Wisconsin Ghost wanted you. I think... you reminded him of an old love he had, or almost had. It was all very Jonathan and Mina Harker.”

Mom snorted, but Danny heard a muffled chuckle. “More like _Dracula_ and Mina Harker.”

“Those break-ins, the ones that got blamed on that goth circus.” Dad glanced back. “You were on security cameras.”

“Freakshow had a red orb on this staff, it could hypnotize and control ghosts.” Danny offered another shrug. “I destroyed it, and broke his control. Plus you guys already knew he was bad news. And all the stolen jewelry and money was found in his train, including stuff that was reported stolen in places the circus had visited. That wasn't my fault.”

“The C.A.T.” Dad commented. “We got a call that you had to reschedule.”

Danny squirmed. “That's... complicated. And a long story.”

“We've got all day.” Mom replied. “I think that's enough time for a long story or three.”

“You need to understand, I _never_ meant for any of that to happen.” Danny stated. “The Nasty Burger exploded and I wound up with the envelope that held the answers. I wasn't going to look over them, but everyone expected me to do as well as Jazz. But then...” Fire. Death. Claws digging into his throat and a whisper, a promise. “Things went bad. I found this time ghost – Clockwork – he looks over all the timelines and... I was on the track to going dark side. Global apocalypse dark side. He sent me ten years into the future, just in time to watch Valerie die–”

“Valerie Grey?” Mom glanced back. “The young girl with the ghost hunting equipment?”

“She became a big hero in that future. Protected the world from me.” Danny didn't smile. “She failed.”

“What happened?” Danny saw Dad's eyes glance back at him from the rear-view mirror. “To make you go dark side?”

“You died.” Danny felt uncomfortable talking about it. But they wanted to know, so he would tell them. “Lancer, he– he figured out that I cheated. Called you guys to meet him by the Nasty Burger. Jazz, Sam, and Tucker followed, probably to convince him that I didn't cheat, when the vat of Nasty Sauce exploded. Everyone... everyone died.

“Vlad took me in, and I told him all about my ghost half. He converted the Ghost Gloves and ripped my ghost half out of me. Apparently I wasn't supposed to do that because he maimed Vlad and... killed me. The human me.” Danny took a shuddering breath. “But I went forward in time, so that changed things. The future me went back in time, left me in the future, and cheated on the test. When things started to go south, he kidnapped everyone – and Lancer – and strapped you to the vat of Nasty Sauce. I got back here and beat him, but...

“I was too late.” Danny stared out at the window, memories of heat and fire and terror flooding his mind. “The vat exploded. Clockwork intervened, saved you guys and turned time back to just before I was supposed to take the C.A.T., but... I thought I'd lost you guys.”

“The ectofiltrator.” Dad glanced at Mom. “The panic attack he had, it was because–”

“The trauma from that explosion.” Mom breathed, finishing the sentence.

“I don't want to have that happen again.” Danny said, more for himself than for his parents. “I lost you guys once already, I can't go through that again.”

“You don't have to.” Mom reached back, and Danny leaned forward. The hug was awkward, as car hugs go, but it was nice to know. His parents were safe. They were safe and they accepted that he had ghost powers. “Although you are grounded for the rest of the summer.”

“What?” Danny pulled out of the hug. “Why?”

“It took you running away–”

“I didn't run away!” The words were out before Danny knew what he was saying. “I didn't run away.”

Mom and Dad were silent. Finally, Mom spoke up. “Then what happened.”

It didn't sound like a question. Danny winced. “I pissed off a ghost. He broke the Christmas Truce – they call it the Solstice Truce, too – and turned me into a book. Walker threw the ghost into his prison.”

“Oh.” Mom's voice was quiet. Danny understood; this was the first time he said it. And, he realized, it felt like the truth.

Dad spoke up. “Christmas Truce?”

“They also call it the Solstice Truce.” Danny replied. “The ghosts don't attack anyone, not even themselves.” He settled back in his seat. “Uh, you should probably know that the ectoconverter and the exosuit are kinda... destroyed.”

“Oh. Right.” Mom nodded. “You... took the exosuit to battle the classless specter.”

“Pariah Dark.” Danny corrected. “The Ghost King.”

“Ghost King?” Dad glanced back around, staring at Danny, confused. “Ghosts don't have a hierarchical system.”

“Not anymore.” Danny shrugged. “I only ever got the short version. He was the king of the Ghost Zone, until all the ghosts got together and sealed him away in the Sarcophagus of Forever Sleep. The exosuit was the only way for me to fight on his level.”

“And the ectoconverter?” Dad asked. “You mentioned that too. What happened to it?”

“Gone.” Danny glanced at the floor. “The exosuit was taken by the Wisconsin Ghost, and he got the ectoconverter too. The plan was to combine them and use it to stop me, but I beat him and set the exosuit to self-destruct.”

The car lapsed into silence, at that. Danny figured that his parents needed some time to process it all, like he had.

“What can you do?” Mom asked, shifting to look at him. She had a calculating gleam in her eyes. “You keep talking about your powers, but what is it that you can do?”

Danny blinked. He hadn't expected the questioning about his powers to happen for a while. “Well, I can do the same stuff a ghost can. Invisible, intangible, flight. I can shoot ectoblasts too, and create a shield. I've been working on duplication too, but that's still difficult to do. I can overshadow too. That's, uh, what ghosts call possession. There's also the, uh, ghostly wail.”

“Ghostly wail?” Mom raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, it's, uh, when I scream. Like a sonic blast.” Danny rubbed at his neck. “Throws out my voice when I use it, though.”

“There's also the transformation.” Dad added. “The one that turns you into the, uh, what would you call it, Mads?”

“Pseudogeist?” Mom supplied. “I suppose it might work like a photo negative. The ectoplasm bonded with him on the molecular level – it wouldn't take much to pull out the phantom of the moment it bonded with him. Just actively charging up the ectoplasm in his system.”

“Which means a good electric charge could short out the ectoplasm, disrupt it and make it inert for short periods of time.” Dad mused, and Danny blinked. That sounded familiar...

“Wait, I know that.” Danny nodded as it clicked. “The Wisconsin Ghost has this device that can short out my powers. He called it the Plasmius Maximus. Looks kind of like a taser, but for ghost powers.”

Mom hummed, and Dad nodded like that made sense. “About your other powers...”

Danny groaned, but he couldn't keep a smile off his face. This was going to be a long car ride, but it was worth it. He was finally telling his parents the truth.

~~* * *~~

The rest of the drive back home was filled with discussions of what Danny could and could not do. Most of the latter he wasn't really certain about, remembering only the limits he had when they last tested him, three months ago. Which, Danny realized, wasn't three months ago. Mom and Dad had never measured his limits before – that only ever happened when he was a book.

When they stopped for the night, it had been almost midnight when his parents had winded down enough to fall asleep, leaving Danny laying on the bench, staring at the ceiling of the GAV. They had talked about all sort of experiments they could run with Danny, tests they could run on Danny. It was all explained for him, how it was all non-invasive and everything short of dissecting him, cutting off his hand to study it, and tearing his ghost half away molecule by molecule. He had their assurances that they would respect his decision if he didn't want to do anything, and he had the final say to stop or opt out.

Everything was different, not like he remembered it being before. Only, he frowned, there was no before. There had never been a 'before'. There was only now, and now... Valerie wasn't a ghost huntress, wasn't even anywhere near a friend or ally. Sam wasn't his girlfriend, probably didn't have feelings for him, and just as likely she would never develop the feelings for him that he had for her.

Danny wasn't even sure if the feelings he had for Sam were real. He didn't know if he liked her for the complex, imperfect person that she truly was, or the idealized version that had existed in the book, the one that existed only in his mind. And as much as he wanted to find out if she reciprocated his feelings, deep down he already knew the answer – she didn't. This Sam, the _real_ Sam, hadn't fought Nocturne with Danny. Hadn't helped to rescue Tucker and the rest of the summer camp from Walker. Hadn't single-handedly usurped King Aragon and spurred Dora into reclaiming the throne of her kingdom.

The real Sam wasn't the one he fell in love with.

Yeah, early on the one in the book might have once been just like the real Sam, but... he remembered how much he came to rely on her. How often she was the one who helped him and spurred him into action. How much she came to be his moral support. She'd become perfect, in his eyes. That Sam could do no wrong – had done no wrong.

But compared to the real Sam, the one he fell in love with was a caricature. Now that he spent time with her, he could see how much _more_ of a person she was. How she liked slasher movies and how anime was a guilty pleasure of hers – Sailor Moon and Trigun and Gundam Wing were her favorites. How she loved the spring formal dress her parents got her, and how much she owed Tucker for that time he helped fix her parents' laptop after she tripped and spilled a bowl of cereal on it. Compared to the Sam from the book, Sam was so much more real. And so little like the person he loved.

Danny rolled onto his side, putting his thoughts aside. He had another long day ahead of him. Tomorrow he would invite Sam over, tell her everything. She might not love him back in the same way, but he still felt that she should know. At least so he could begin to move on.

~~* * *~~

Sam and Tucker were already there, waiting with Jazz. They celebrated Danny's return, surreptitiously trying to apologize for barging in on Vlad before Danny let them know that he didn't blame them. He actually would have done the same thing, really.

“And besides,” he added between bites of sesame chicken. “It's just like that time you–”

Danny cut himself off. Like the time with Dani, he was about to say. Except... that never happened. Sam nodded. “Yeah, that time we...”

“Bailed you out of that gym run with Dash!” Tucker finished, reaching in front of the goth for a bite of the stir fry.

Danny snorted, recalling an old event, one that he was sure they remembered. “That was a good time, but I was talking about you guys busting me out of Walker's prison.”

Jazz spat out her water, while Tucker dropped the stir fry on his lap. Sam froze, glancing wide-eyed at Mom and Dad. “Uh.”

“I don't recall you telling us this story.” Mom picked at the rice, calm as ever. “When was this?”

“They know.” Danny gave his best friends and sister a smile. “It... really seemed simpler.”

“So, Dann-o, you've actually been to the Ghost Zone other times than to beat the classless specter?” Dad leaned forward. “What's it like? Are there lots of ghosts? Is it as green as the portal looks? Are there other plots of land in there? What kinds of ghosts did you meet?”

“Later.” Mom reprimanded, reaching over to pat Jazz on the back. “After he tells us about this prison.”

Danny's smile grew larger, and he took another bite of sesame chicken. “It's a long story.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> The tv show Danny mentioned is Life on Mars, same title as the David Bowie song.


End file.
